This Is Business
by Chirugal
Summary: Begins immediately after AOD's last cut scene. LCxKT. Lara and Kurtis cross Turkey in search of Joachim Karel, discovering that Kurtis' Lux Veritatis ancestors left a deadly weapon to destroy the Nephilim: the Black Angel. FIC COMPLETE! Revised October 05
1. Getting Out

**THIS IS BUSINESS** by Chirugal

**Rating**: M

**Disclaimer**: Lara, Kurtis and Tomb Raider are all copyright of Eidos Interactive and Core Design. Well, Crystal Dynamics now, I guess.

**Chapter revised 19/09/05. A couple of minor word changes 15/06/08 – still needs work, but hey! Can't be bothered to edit out crying-Lara.**

* * *

Kurtis' strange weapon in hand, Lara Croft turned her back on the arena where he had met his match in Boaz and walked away. A sad, bittersweet smile touched her lips – the bloodied floor could only mean that he had gone down fighting. Where was his body? She would have liked to pay her respects to someone so similar to herself.

Never mind. He was probably half-digested in Boaz's death throes. She could at least do him the service of taking his beloved weapon from hostile territory. As she walked down the corridor that led – she hoped – to an exit, she felt an unexpected sting of tears. She hadn't cried since before she could remember, not even when Werner had died, but oddly her vision now blurred at the death of an almost-stranger she had known for less than a week.

Perhaps it was because they seemed so alike – battle-scarred, hardened and suspicious. They had disarmed each other, traded insults and information, and both trained their guns on the same enemy before exchanging surprised, almost embarrassed glances.

No doubt the sizzling attraction between them was a major factor, too. From the moment he had outwitted her in the besieged Louvre, Lara had been unable to get him out of her mind. That fact had frightened her almost as much as it intrigued her – never had she felt so out of control of her own emotions.

And now he was dead, she was striding down a potentially hostile corridor with vision impaired by tears that ran in silent streams down her cheeks, biting her lip in a stubborn attempt to suppress the sobs that rose painfully in her throat. This would not do at all. _Get a grip on yourself, Croft._ She halted for a second, squaring her shoulders and taking deep breaths to calm herself. When she felt she was sufficiently composed, she moved on. Grief could come later.

There was someone in the distance. Great. Still a while to go before she could get a decent rest, then. Tucking Kurtis' weapon into her backpack, she drew out her 9mm and continued towards them. The time for stealth was over; Lara wanted the Cabal's entire workforce exterminated. Now.

The figure looked male, and injured. He leaned against the wall, his back to her and blood dripping to the floor from several places. Maybe she'd been wrong about Boaz being detained in the afterlife, then. Perhaps she'd have to finish off Kurtis' work. If that was so, Lara wasn't leaving the building until it was taken care of.

"What got you?" she called sharply, still advancing, 9mm aimed in his direction. The man whirled, and Lara found herself looking down the barrel of a familiar Boran X. _He's alive._ Convinced that if Karel had survived he would be too busy healing himself to deal with her, and filled with dizzy relief, she holstered her weapon and ran to his side. Recognition filled deep blue eyes clouded with pain, and Kurtis lowered his last defence, sagging back against the wall.

"Thank god. I'm out of bullets."

"Are you alright?" It was a stupid question.

"Left my Chirugai," he answered with an effort. "Just resting. Need to go back for it."

"Chirugai?" As she surveyed his wounds – the most major of which looked as though a skewer had been driven all the way through his abdomen and then removed – she rolled the unknown word around her head. Suddenly, realisation dawned. "You mean this?" She held up the circular disc with retractable blades she'd picked up from Boaz's arena, and he sighed with relief.

"Thanks." He coughed painfully, and when he withdrew his hand it was spotted with blood. "Eckhardt?"

"Dead." _And so will you be, if I can't get you to a hospital in time._ "We'll talk later. Can you walk?"

He pushed off the wall and almost fell. Her heart wrenching with sympathy and fear, Lara caught his arm to steady him. "Lean on me," she commanded. He looked as though he would protest, and Lara narrowed her eyes in irritation. "Do it, Kurtis. I promise I won't tell anyone you had to let a woman help you."

He put an arm around her shoulders, and Lara slipped hers around his waist, supporting his weight. Despite the gravity of the situation, she felt a thrill at his close proximity. "Let's go," she told him, urging him forward with both words and body language. Face creased with agony, Kurtis took the first few faltering steps slowly before getting into stride. They were able to make surprisingly good time to the first obstacle: the door at the end of the hall.

"Kurtis, listen." Receiving no response, Lara turned her head to look at his face, only inches away. His skin was ashen, his eyes closed and his breathing irregular. He was conscious, but barely. "If you pass out on me, you won't live to regret it," Lara told him, fear injecting urgency into her tone. When there was still no response, she knelt, depositing him carefully on the ground before turning to open the door. The corridor beyond seemed clear, but if they were taken by surprise there was a high risk that she would be badly injured too. Moving fast, she kicked open doors, and found no one. As an afterthought she opened the door that stood in the way of the stairwell, and then headed back to where she'd left Kurtis.

He opened his eyes slowly as she felt for his pulse, which was shaky and erratic. "Thought you'd left me to die. Was cooking up revenge," he joked weakly, and that half-smile of his was back.

Lara smiled, pulling him to his feet. "You pass out on me, I will leave you," she answered, supporting him once more. "Come on. I've found the stairs."

It was half way down the second flight of steps that Kurtis sagged in her arms. Lara eased him to the ground, despair beginning to take root in her mind. "Kurtis, don't you dare do this to me," she ordered. No response. "For god's sake," Lara muttered, and tugged at his hair hard in the vain hope of shocking him awake. A cluster of dark hairs came away in her palm, and his scalp began to bleed superficially. Lara winced in remorse, but could have danced for joy as he raised a hand to his head to check the damage.

"Bitch," he murmured under his breath.

Lara grinned; now that he was conscious again, all things were possible. "If I had a coconut for every time I heard that one…" she began, encouraging him to his feet again.

Kurtis leaned against her again, and they began to descend the stairs once more. "I mean it, you know."

"Always nice to know where one stands," Lara panted as they reached the bottom. "Door." Kurtis transferred his weight from her to a pillar, and Lara opened it, only to slam it shut again. "Oh, _shit_," she sighed resignedly.

"What?" Even in his injured state and without ammunition, one hand was at his holster.

Lara bit her lip, torn by indecision. "Police. I'm a wanted woman, Kurtis; I have to get out of here. They're coming in. Don't tell them which way I go."

Kurtis put out a hand to stop her as she moved past him. Even if a wave of molten lava had been crashing toward her at that moment, Lara would have stopped at his touch. "Don't," he rasped. "Tell them about the Cabal; about Eckhardt. If they still lock you up, when I heal from this I'll get you out." Lara hesitated. "Trust me." She did, she realised in that moment. And if he died from his wounds… she'd have to break out on her own. She'd done harder things.

The door crashed inwards.


	2. Visits

**Author's Note**: Thanks for all the positive feedback, guys… A few notes on this chapter: near the tail end of it, there's some history of the Cabal and Lux Veritatis. This you can take as fact, because I got it from an interview with Adrian Smith… Also, Cappadocia is correct, as it's where the second game would have been set…

**Revised 15/06/08**

* * *

Lara halted at the door of Kurtis' room at Prague General Hospital, still relishing her freedom of the past hour. She'd spent two nights in a cell while police had swarmed the Strahov. Nearly seventy-two hours after her arrest, the shell-shocked authorities had gotten in touch with the Parisian officers in charge of the Monstrum murders and cleared her of the slaughter of over twenty individuals. Always good to know. Now it was time to check in with Kurtis.

Knocking softly on the door, she entered the private room without waiting for a reply. Kurtis turned his head towards her and smiled a welcome. "You're out."

"So it would seem," Lara agreed. "How are you feeling?"

He closed his eyes for a second before answering. "Uncomfortably indebted to you."

Lara bit back a smile and took the chair beside the bed. "Don't mention it. You'd have done the same for me."

"You're half my weight," came the ironic reply.

"A little more than that." Lara cast a critical eye over his injuries. "You're going to have some interesting scars."

"Already got a lot. A few more won't hurt." Kurtis reached out a finger and traced one of her own scars, which ran from shoulder to elbow. Lara shivered at the gentle touch and averted her eyes. "What did this?" he asked, his hand tapering off at her elbow. When Lara looked up at him, his eyes were unreadable. Was he toying with her, or was he genuinely interested? She wished she knew.

"A few years back, in a Chinese temple near the Great Wall. The swordsman statues came to life. They still had their swords."

Kurtis continued to study her. "What happened with Eckhardt?" he asked.

Lara kept her face as neutral as she could. As much as she hated to lie to someone she respected, she didn't think the knowledge that his father's murderer might not have been Eckhardt would help his recovery. "I killed him with the Shards," she said simply.

Kurtis raised himself up onto one elbow, eyes intent on her features. "There has to be more to it than that."

_Wonderful.__ Time to give him a relapse._ Drawing in a deep breath, Lara told him about Karel, leaving out his face's transformation into Kurtis'.

"No." The word, and his expression, conveyed nothing but flat refusal to believe it. "Eckhardt killed my father. Eckhardt is dead, and my father's avenged."

Lara stayed silent, not wanting to say anything that would incite the rage she knew was building within him. Perhaps it would pass if unprovoked, leaving acceptance and resolve in its place.

Or perhaps not. "You're lying." The cold anger in his eyes was directed at her, only at her, and it stung as much as a physical blow. Lara shook her head, still maintaining her silence. "Yes, you are. You're lying, because you think that if I know this business is over and done with, we'll have no reason to stay in touch, and you'll never see me again." The words were delivered with the chilly calm of utter conviction.

Lara stood up, her own blood beginning to boil. "Take that back," she replied, voice a warning growl.

Kurtis gave a derisive laugh. "Or what? You'll shoot me? No guns allowed in the hospital, huh?" he said, gesturing at her empty holsters.

Lara's eyes narrowed, and she lowered her face until it was just inches from his. "I trained with my fists and feet long before I laid eyes on a firearm," she answered, encouraging the threatening tone that longed to escape her lips.

To his credit, Kurtis didn't flinch. Lara straightened up and stepped over to the bedside table. Using the pen and paper there to scribble down her home address and telephone number, she dropped the note into his lap. "When you come to your senses – and not before – I'll be back home. I have contacts there. I'll be researching the Nephilim and Karel."

She turned on her heel, still seething, and headed for the door. His sarcastic tone stopped her. "What's your interest in this, anyway? Your illustrious name's in the clear."

Turning to shoot him the iciest look she could muster, Lara answered, "Karel killed my mentor. Werner was more of a father to me than my own father was. On top of that, he was my friend." She resumed her path to the door, muttering under her breath, "We're done here."

As she stepped out into the corridor, she heard him speak her name, a little less angrily, but her own pride was painfully inflamed. She strode down the hallway, not bothering to close the door behind her.

* * *

Lara slammed her fists into the punching bag over and over, remembering that frosty argument of three weeks ago with barely diminished rage. _Bastard, bastard, bastard_. Kicks began to find their place in the assault as she speeded up her rhythm, taking out all her frustration on that one padded object. When, at last, she'd exhausted herself, she stamped over to her bottle of water, only to find her 9mm missing from where she'd left it.

"Winston?" she called warily, surveying the room. Perhaps the butler had taken it to be tidied away somewhere, though he of all people knew better. That wasn't likely, though. Croft Manor had an intruder.

She was halfway through her more detailed perusal of the gym when a voice spoke up. "I could have shot you full of holes by now."

Lara scowled at the familiar, slightly hostile American accent. She had no doubt as to whom it was: she had heard this voice in her mind a hundred times a day since that scene in the hospital. She turned, arms folded, and glowered at Kurtis, who sat on the floor beside the door, his back to the wall and her weapon held up for her to see. "Most people don't possess the magical powers needed to bypass my top of the line security systems," she snapped.

Smirking, Kurtis pulled himself to his feet and tossed her the 9mm. Lara caught it, immediately checking to see if the safety was on. "Do you think I'm stupid enough to throw a loaded gun at you with no safety?" he asked, advancing with caution.

"So many remarks… which one shall I pick?" Lara retorted sarcastically. "And, by the way," she added, levelling the weapon at him, "don't come any closer."

He knew what she was waiting for, and sighed. "I'm sorry. It was unexpected, and it hit me hard. I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

Not taking her eyes from him, Lara nodded, giving no indication of friendliness as she strapped on her holster and slipped her gun into it. Kurtis kept his distance, perhaps remembering the fists-and-feet comment she'd made the last time they'd spoken. There was an awkward silence before Lara dropped her gaze and told him, "Come and see what I've found on the Nephilim."

The flesh between her shoulder blades tingled as she headed down the hall, not waiting for him to reply. Her mind raced. Now that the initial surprise was over, she remembered with a deep unease the moment when Karel had assumed Kurtis' identity. Three weeks… long enough for the shapeshifter to regroup? Lara hoped not. Kurtis' presence and apology had calmed her anger, and she was beginning to feel those stirrings of attraction that made her so uncomfortable. "This is business," she'd told him once. Even then, she hadn't been so sure.

If this Kurtis was in fact Karel, she was in a lot of trouble. The Periapt Shards, the only thing that would kill a Nephilim, had gone up with Eckhardt's body. As far as Lara knew, there was no other way to defeat him. Perhaps Eckhardt's glove, but she'd had to abandon that, too. It looked like her only course of action was to hope for the best. Maybe if she just assumed this was Kurtis Trent, and she was wrong, Karel would be amused enough to leave her be until she'd figured out a course of action.

They reached her study, furnished with comfortable armchairs and lined floor to ceiling with shelves full of books on myths and legends, archaeology, arcane texts… An adjoining door stood ajar, allowing a glimpse into Lara's trophy room, where she kept the artefacts she recovered on her expeditions. Kurtis chose a chair and sat without being asked, while Lara headed to her desk and picked up a sheath of manila folders bearing labels which read, 'J.K.', 'Nephilim', and 'K.T.' On second thoughts… Lara dropped the file on Kurtis back onto the desk and handed him the other two. He raised an eyebrow in the direction of the abandoned file, but took the others without comment.

Silence fell on the room. Lara sat at the window, gazing out into Croft Manor's expansive gardens. She could hear Kurtis' steady breathing behind her, and the crinkle of turning pages. Finally, he murmured, "So Eckhardt was a pawn all along…"

_As I tried to tell you three weeks ago._ "Yes," Lara replied, voice carefully neutral.

He shot a half-grin in her direction, almost as if he sensed her irritation. Lara turned back to the window, resting her forehead against the cool glass and taking deep, measured breaths to calm her racing heart. _That is _not _fair. That's use of masculine wiles to manipulate._

She became aware of movement behind her and looked around, to find Kurtis going through the file she'd withheld from him; the file into which she'd deposited all of her background research into a certain American Lux Veritatis member. Cobalt eyes held a sardonic tinge as they met hers. "You could have just asked me."

"Where was the guarantee you'd tell me the truth?" Lara replied.

He dropped the file back to the desktop and sat back down, seeming more curious than angry. "Why'd you want to know?"

Lara hesitated. The truth, or sarcastic repartee? She chose a mixture of truth and lying by omission. "Now that I have a choice, I'd like to know whether I can turn my back on you and be safe."

"_Can_ you turn your back on a _former assassin_ and be safe?"

His tone mocked her, but his expression did not. Surprised at the intensity in his face, Lara studied him thoughtfully. "It's not the assassin part that bothers me." At his hiked eyebrow, she muttered, "If you are Karel, you're going to find this amusing as hell." Raising her hand to quell the question that formed on his lips, she continued, "I didn't tell you everything about my meeting with Karel. Yes, he was Luddick, yes, he was Bouchard, but he also tried to tell me he was you."

Emotion flared in his eyes, one that Lara had never expected to see – sympathy. _Bugger._ That could only mean he was putting himself in her shoes, which could only mean he knew how she felt about him… or was assuming she felt the same as he did – if he did at all. "What?" she asked sharply. He only smiled. Lara gave him a withering look, stepping over to one of the bookshelves and extracting a thick, dusty, leather-bound tome. They were in dangerous territory – time to distract herself with some work.

A couple of minutes into her translation from ancient Sanskrit, she looked up. Kurtis was watching her with a thoughtful intelligence, a notepad in one hand, a pen poised over it in the other, as though he were analysing a lab rat. "What are you doing?" she asked wearily.

"Adding to my file on you." Oh, he knew she'd go through the roof. She decided she wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

"And do I get to see this file?"

Vague disappointment underlying the amusement. "Maybe later." He closed the notebook. "What do you have on the Lux Veritatis?"

Business; business was good. "I assumed that anything I'd find, you'd already know. I'd just given up on you and started to research them when you… popped in. All I really know is that they supposedly defeated Eckhardt and have a long-standing feud with the Cabal, dating back at least a couple of thousand years."

A nod. "The Black Death, the Great Fire of London, the World Wars… all part of the feud." Lara winced. "Jack the Ripper was a Cabal member," he added.

"Wonderful," Lara answered wryly, jotting down his words. "Does Cappadocia have any significance to the Lux Veritatis?"

Kurtis frowned. "Cappadocia, Turkey? Not that I know of."

"Back to square one, then." Lara stood up. "I'll start there tomorrow. For now, I'm hungry."

"Know a good Chinese takeout?" Kurtis asked, standing with her. He laid his notebook on the arm of the chair, something Lara surreptitiously noted.

"I was going to say beans on toast, but that would require cooking. The little village down the road has a Chinese…"

He nodded. "Are you coming with?"

Lara considered. She was getting restless cooped up inside, but there was that intriguing notebook to pilfer... "No," she decided. "I need to get this organised." She gestured at the desk behind her, strewn with paper.

Kurtis nodded, and scooped up his notebook from the chair as he began to leave the room. In the doorway, he turned to look at her, laughter in his eyes. Lara couldn't help the smile that spread across her face as he vanished down the hall.


	3. The Notebook

**Author's Note**: Chapter three of who knows how many? :) Depends on you guys. Thanks for being so positive – now read on for your reward!

**Revised 15/06/08 for grammatical stuff. Content could do with a huge rework, but it's not gonna happen!**

* * *

Organising her desk took about three seconds – she'd known where everything was anyway. Bored, she decided she'd better change out of her workout gear before the food arrived. Not that it had anything to do with the fact that Kurtis would be arriving with it. Far from it.

By the time Kurtis walked through the door, she was showered and dressed in an outfit she'd last worn in 1999 for her trip to Nevada. She'd informed Winston of their… guest, and he'd retired to his room for the night. A nice man, Winston, but not the most social of beings. Still, since Lara spent most of her time alone, and he'd known her since she was a small girl, their arrangement had worked out fine.

They ate in the lounge, food on their laps, for the specific reason that Lara wanted to dispel any lingering notions he had that she was a typical aristocrat. For the first five minutes they ate in comfortable silence, but then Kurtis looked up at her. "Truth or dare?"

Lara frowned. "Aren't you a trifle old to be playing schoolyard games?" she asked.

He shrugged. "Indulge me."

Lara thought about it. In these circumstances, the option of truth would be more challenging. What the hell. "Truth."

Kurtis took the time to devour three prawn crackers as he considered. "You seem to have at least ten different personalities. Which is the real Lara?"

Of all the questions she'd been expecting, that hadn't been one of them. "I'm sorry? What personalities?"

"Every time I think I have you figured out, you prove me wrong, is all. One minute you're a total bitch, the next you're putting your life on the line for me." He stopped, watched her surprised discomfort at the description, amusement laced with a challenge in his eyes. "Wish you'd chosen a dare now?"

"I don't know the answer," Lara admitted. "Maybe I'm a mixture. Or maybe you don't get to see the real me until I decide you can." She punctuated the last point with a semi-flirtatious look through her lashes, made bold by his obvious attempt to get to know her better. Before he could translate the strange look in his eyes into words, she shook her head, assuming an innocent, wide-eyed expression as she asked, "My turn. Truth or dare?"

He seemed intrigued by her, under that cocky exterior. "Truth."

_Hmmm…__ No harm in checking._ "Bound by the sacred laws of Truth or Dare," she said dryly, "are you Karel?"

He appeared to be biting back laughter. "Thought you'd ask a harder one than that." He sobered a little, and held up a hand. "Scout's Honour. I'm not Karel, or any other Nephilim." He paused. "What you have to ask yourself now is, did Karel play Truth or Dare as a kid?"

Lara studied him, from the half-amused, all-ironic twist of his mouth to the almost-serious tint in his eyes. "I believe you," she told him. It was as much as she was going to let herself show real emotions towards him, today, anyway.

Kurtis leaned forward, chin resting in his hand, elbow on his knee. He seemed to realise the remark meant more than it appeared on the surface. "Thanks," he said quietly, fixing her with a look that contained more gravity than she had seen so far from him today. He appeared to be reluctant to end the moment of almost-understanding that passed between them, but after a few seconds seemed resigned to it. "Truth or dare?"

To say 'dare' now would be to end the game, Lara intuitively knew. For some strange reason, she was unwilling to stop it for the moment. "Truth."

For the first time since the game had begun, his eyes left her face. Obviously, whatever he had planned to ask, he was hesitant about. Lara steeled herself.

"You got any frightening interests I should know about?" That wasn't what he'd been originally about to ask, and Kurtis knew she knew it. _Interesting._

Lara smiled. "Occasionally, I go to the opera." Kurtis winced, and her smile widened. "My favourite colour is pink, and I'm scared of rats, spiders and snakes," she continued, deciding to lighten the mood a little. "I've been divorced four times and have my eye on the seventy year old butler."

Kurtis threw a cracker at her, returning her grin. "That's practically necrophilia."

Mentally giving him a brownie point for his good humour, Lara shrugged. "The opera one's true. I collect knives and guns, and I like to break the speed limit. That's just me." She paused. "Truth or dare?"

"Dare."

Lara sighed inwardly. She'd been about to ask him what he'd considered asking her before changing his mind, and he'd anticipated it. Now she had to think of a dare. "Give me your notebook."

He waved it in the air, rakish grin in place. "Nice try. But no."

Lara glared in mock seriousness. "Do you forfeit the dare?" she intoned.

"That I do," he drawled. Curiosity stirred once more, Lara wondered what he'd written in it that was so precious to him.

"Then accept a variation of the dare."

"I can _burn_ my notebook…"

Lara rolled her eyes, stood up, and began to gather up the remainder of the food and debris to take through to the kitchen. "One day, Mr. Trent, I _will_ get my hands on it."

* * *

It was three in the morning. Lara got out of bed and crept down the hall in her purple silk dressing gown to the room Kurtis was staying in. With eighty-three rooms in the manor, there was more than enough room for the lady of the house, her trusty butler and her fascinatingly handsome associate.

Kurtis lay on his front, spread-eagled over the entire width of the queen-size bed, seeming more peaceful in sleep than he had ever appeared awake. His usual expression, managing to combine over-confidence with a guarded element, had been shed with his waking mind. Lara halted by his bedside, resisting the urge to stroke a tendril of hair away from his face. _Stop it, Croft._ The fact that he seemed to be naked under that thin sheet wasn't helping, either. _Do what you came here to do, and then go._ With that mental slap, she cast her eyes around for his elusive notebook, feeling a twinge of surprise when she saw it neatly placed on the bedside cabinet.

_Where's the catch?_ Years of global exploration had attuned her to the presence of hidden traps, but there was nothing visible here. The only way she'd find out was if she tried to take it. Ready to leap back or run at any second, Lara reached out and lifted it off the dresser. Nothing happened; nor did Kurtis wake. _That was easy. Maybe he does think I wouldn't take it._ Shrugging, she allowed herself one last lingering look at Kurtis before retreating to her quarters.

The first few pages seemed pretty standard; the same nature of information she'd collected on him. Date of birth, what she'd managed to achieve over the past ten years, a brief description, what had leaked out through the press on both her previous exploits and her 'wanted' status as the Monstrum… When she turned the page, however, she found a series of short entries she could only describe as vaguely diary-like.

The first was dated the day she'd recovered the painting from Brother Obscura's tomb under the Louvre. The day Kurtis had stolen it. 'Managed to get the painting, but those Cabal bastards knocked me out and took it. I blame the Croft woman for distracting me. She's a real piece of work. Gotta give her credit for getting as far as she did. When I first saw her at the Metro I thought I was on my own – she looked way too beautiful to be useful. Turns out I was wrong. Still, I managed to take the painting from her without too much trouble. We'll see. If I'm right, she'll stop at nothing to get it back, or at least get the fifth. Looking forward to crossing paths with her again. Think she's as fascinated by me as I am by her."

Lara wasn't sure whether to smile or frown. As a compromise, she did neither, but reached for a pen. Under the entry, she wrote her own. "Today I was disarmed by a gorgeous bastard who took my painting. I'm going to kill him for underestimating me, but I did quite enjoy the frisking, and I admire his quick wits."

She moved on to the next entry, dated the next day at 10am. "Croft has shut off the power, releasing hybrids and failed experiments everywhere. Looks like I'll have to step in. Women. Maybe I'd be better off attracted to men. At least they have common sense."

Lara sucked in her breath as she contemplated her reply to that one. "Trent is an egotist who looks down on anyone not possessing super-powers; therefore, everyone. Suggestions as to how I could have disabled the security systems I had no clearance for without shutting off the power, and with absolutely no knowledge of hybrids at the time, would be very welcome. As to available men, he need only ask and I can point him in the direction of several who have attempted to win me and failed. Perhaps they would enjoy some male company, also." Despite the slurs on her common sense, Lara was beginning to enjoy this. She read on.

The next entry was dated the same, but timed at two-thirty. "Have managed to contain Croft so she can't screw up for a while. Don't think I controlled my temper very well, but she's a big girl. She can handle it. Have a strange urge to go back and watch her pace. She might have made mistakes, but she's only human. But this is bad. Can't let feelings get in the way of finding Eckhardt."

Lara tapped her pen thoughtfully on the page. This was a side of Kurtis she hadn't seen so explicitly. The last sentence could have come straight from her own pen. Frowning at her inability to articulate half of the things she wanted to say, she slowly wrote, "Managed to get locked into a tiny room due to lack of power. Trent was harsh, and I'd like to break his arm, but I appreciate a good work ethic. Wish I knew more about him."

Timed at four in the afternoon: "Croft and I seem pretty alike. She outsmarted and disarmed me this time. Has a sense of humour – got her own back for what I did at the Louvre. Told me 'this is business', but sounded about as sure as I am on that. Officially 'working together' – me after the last shard, her after the fifth painting. She gets herself killed, I'll raise her from the dead so I can kill her myself."

Lara barely needed to think back to her release from that room near the Aquatic Research Facility. Her pen flew over the page. "Trent's still alive, which frankly surprises me. Still, am starting to get fond of him, like a new puppy or something. Would be a shame if he died. It appears he can take being outwitted with good grace: an admirable trait. Not sure I'm not making a mistake trusting him, but don't appear to have a choice. Ah, well. At least he's easy on the eyes."

This entry was dated five days later, after their Strahov adventure had concluded. "Just discharged from hospital after Boaz gutted me. Where to start? Lara could have left me but didn't. Owe her my life, but yelled at her for being honest and drove her out. Guess there'll have to be an apology when I find her again. Knows I suspect she has feelings for me – possibly a little egotistical there. Hope she does, though. Would hate to have to convince her."

Lara chewed her lower lip, noting his switch from her surname to forename, contemplating. Finally, she wrote, "That utter bastard Kurtis accused me of fabricating stories to keep in contact with him. Am beginning to regret helping him out of the Strahov, but would have driven myself crazy for the rest of my life wondering if he'd have felt the same, otherwise. Maybe we're too alike to get on. We'll see."

Almost two weeks until the next entry. "Can't stop thinking about Lara. Wish I'd never heard of her. Romance is _not_ what I need if I'm going to track down Karel. But I need to see her again, if only to apologise and just see her face one last time. England it is, then."

Smiling faintly, Lara shook her head. They really were alike. "Wish I had a picture of Kurtis to stick onto my punching bag. Have my priorities, though – highest of which is information on Karel and the Nephilim. If Kurtis showed up, could I trust him, knowing Karel could impersonate him again, and convince me? This could get complicated. Welcome to my life. But even though I'd like to torture him to death, I'd love to see him, too. Why is nothing ever simple?"

This one was dated the day before, when she'd first seen his precious notebook. "Am sat in Lara's study. Just told me Karel turned into me. No wonder she doesn't trust me. But she still feels something, even through that. Can't imagine how it would feel to be in that position. On a completely superficial note, she looks stunning even in workout clothes. Wonder how it would feel to kiss her. Wonder how she'd react. Wishful thinking. She's not going to touch me now."

Lara curled up further against her pillows and closed her eyes. She shouldn't be happy that Kurtis wanted to kiss her, but her entire being betrayed her. Gathering herself under control, she clicked the pen a few times before beginning her reply. "Kurtis is here. Feel… confused. Would love to see where this could go, but Karel saw he was my weak spot. Don't know what to do. Wish it could all be decided for me."

Heaving a sigh, she began to read the entry timed at one a.m. – just two hours before she'd picked it up. "Lara would kill to get her hands on this. Maybe I should let her. Sick of playing this game. Nearly asked her if I'd have a chance earlier, but chickened out. I get this feeling that if I let it go far enough, I could love this woman, and that's seriously scaring me. But I still want it. Screw it. If she tries to come and find this while I'm asleep, she's welcome to it. See what she can make of it. If not… the game goes on."

That was the last entry. Lara sat and stared into space. Of all the things she'd expected to find in that book, the word 'love' was not even close. What both frightened and thrilled her was that she could relate. "Sneaked into Kurtis' room to find his notebook tonight. He looked very, very attractive even asleep. Wish I could curl up with him, but am scared of what that could mean. Lots of what he wrote in the notebook, I could relate to very strongly. Not sure how this will play out, but anything has to be better than creeping around each other like this." Lara paused, pen hovering over the page. After a short internal debate, she closed the notebook and put down the pen. Now, if she could just get up the nerve to put it back on his nightstand, she'd be mission accomplished.


	4. Interesting

**A/N:** Here's another one… enjoy. :)

**Last superficially edited 11/07/08.**

* * *

At midday, showered, dressed and very apprehensive, Lara emerged from her suite. Sure Kurtis would be up and moving around by then, she wandered around the manor, trying to work out where he was without being seen and accepting a cup of coffee from Winston on her way.

At last she was forced to conclude that he was still either asleep or taking refuge in his room. That was a bad sign. Paranoia began to nip at Lara's mind. Maybe he'd engineered the entire notebook to mislead and torment her, and was surprised into silence by the enormity of his success. Perhaps he'd changed his mind when he saw she was more attainable than he'd suspected.

_Or maybe he's still reading it or hasn't even woken up yet,_ she admonished herself. _Calm down._ She returned to the translation she'd been attempting the day before, and was almost finished when she sensed a presence in the doorway.

"Afternoon," she told Kurtis pointedly.

He watched her with an unreadable expression in those striking eyes, and Lara felt her nerves begin to stir again. "I was up at eleven," he replied, "Got distracted reading something. I heard you open your door at twelve. What's your excuse?"

Ah, the dance began. "I didn't fall asleep until about four this morning," Lara answered, hoping her eyes were just as blank. She got up, walked past him to put her book back on the shelf. His hand brushed the skin of her arm as she moved around him, and Lara busied herself straightening books to hide the profound effect the contact had on her. _He'd better not be Karel, because so help me, if he tries to kiss me there's no way I can resist it…_ "Did you find whatever you were reading to your liking?" she asked casually, still maintaining the charade that nothing had changed between them.

He leaned against the bookcase, and she felt his eyes on her like warm spotlights. "Very interesting."

Lara met his eyes. "'Interesting' is a neutral word."

Kurtis reached out to run his finger down her arm. "Oh, this was definitely a good 'interesting'," he confirmed. Lara felt her heart skip a beat as he stepped in closer to her, tilted her chin a little so that she looked up into his face. Time seemed to slow, and Lara fought the urge to close her eyes, afraid that if she expected a kiss she wouldn't receive one.

Finally, after torturous seconds that seemed to last forever, she felt the brush of lips against her own. It wasn't until he drew back from the brief, tentative kiss that something snapped inside her, and she pulled him back to her forcefully, arms entwining around his neck, one hand pressed against the back of his head to prevent him from drawing away. His arms tightened around her in return, all but crushing her. The embrace was desperate, almost aggressive, and when Lara pushed away from him, gasping for air, she saw surprise and lust in his expression.

She averted her eyes, biting her lip as she waited for the adrenaline to fade and normality to return to her world. Never mind that she'd wanted it so very badly – the loss of control was completely out of character, and she resented the breach of that control. Anger duelled with her desire, and won as she looked up and saw his smile. Abruptly, she shouldered past him, skin tingling at the contact, and left the room.

She half-expected him to follow her, and wasn't sure if she was relieved or disappointed when he didn't. As the distance between them increased, her anger faded, replaced with thick, choking confusion, and she hugged her stomach to repress her trembling. Despite the lust she seemed to inspire in ninety per cent of the male population, and even some of the female, Lara did not give her heart easily. Even a kiss was a huge milestone for her. She'd been with very few men, and none had elicited the reaction that Kurtis did in her. The question had very quickly become 'What now?'

Preparing herself to go back inside and face him, she paced the orchard. It was only when she glanced back towards the house that she realised he had followed her, after all. He leaned up against the wall a short distance away, his eyes holding a mixture of curiosity, concern… and hurt. Lara didn't blame him.

She walked towards him, and he watched her silently. His face had shut down, impossible to read now, but his earlier emotions were imprinted in Lara's mind. She took a deep breath, but couldn't find the words she needed. 'I'm sorry' seemed horribly inadequate.

Kurtis nodded. "I know." _Know what?_ she wanted to ask, but was still rendered speechless. "Slowly?" he asked, his voice quiet and almost tender. Without its edge of sarcasm, Lara barely recognised it. She nodded, opened her mouth to thank him. He gently placed a finger to her lips. "We need to find Karel. This can come later."

Given a focus, Lara felt herself regain even footing. She squeezed his shoulder and led the way back into the house.

* * *

"Ah, of course…" At the murmur, Kurtis looked up from the book he'd been skimming through and raised his eyebrows in an unspoken query. Victorious eyes met his, and she smiled. "Have you ever been to Cappadocia?" Off his negative reply, she continued, her voice taking on an almost scholarly tone, "It's a nice place, apparently. Lots of temples. One of them has the answers we need, according to this." She gestured to the same text she'd been translating since he'd gotten there. "The temple's name is the Nephilia Veritas."

Kurtis stood up. Without words, as one, they headed for their respective rooms to pack.

Alone with no distractions for the first time since that turbulent kiss, Kurtis sank down on his bed, the notebook that had triggered it beside him. Out of habit, and to organise his whirling thoughts, he reached for it. "Have just kissed Lara. Never been so confused, so frightened, so ecstatically happy. Didn't expect it to be so forceful, but don't know why I thought it'd be anything less. Both agreed to take it slowly after that – she seems to have her own issues – but how slow is slowly, and how slow is too slow? If I mess this up, it'll be one of the worst mistakes I could ever make. So this is romance. God help us both."

It took him a scant two minutes to pack the bag he'd brought. Emerging again, he stood quietly in the doorway of Lara's suite, watching her rifle through her closet, deposit outfits in a bag similar to his own, and take a variety of ammunition clips from a drawer. Then, she picked up the phone, her back to him.

"Jean-Yves? It's Lara." A pause. She winced, bit her lip. "No, it's really me." A bittersweet smile spread across her features, and she chewed on a nail as she listened to a lengthy speech at the other end of the phone. "It's a long story. I just needed some time. No, it's true. I'm cleared of all the charges now." She proceeded to give him a sketchy outline of events in mainland Europe. "Can you meet us in Turkey? I'll explain more there. I think I'll need your… expertise." A few arrangements and pleasantries exchanged, and she hung up, a sigh escaping her lips. As far as Kurtis could tell, the next call she made was to Heathrow airport, reserving them seats for their journey to Istanbul. When she hung up this time, she looked around, spotted him. "Ready?"

Kurtis took a seat on her bed. "Ready as I'll ever be." Lara nodded and began to zip up her bag. Kurtis reached out, unable to stop himself, and stroked a finger down the tightly braided ponytail that fell down her back. Goosebumps rose on the bare flesh of her arms, but she ignored the touch, and Kurtis trailed off, dropped a kiss on her shoulder, and left the room. _Best not to push her too far._


	5. Gentle

**A/N**: So, what do you think? Still enjoying the show? We're moving into the realms of Turkey now, and I promise we'll get to an artefact next chapter… And shirtless Kurtis. :p

**Teeny revision 11/07/08**

* * *

A wave of heat washed over Lara as she stepped from the air-conditioned interior of Istanbul Airport into the open air. As her gaze swept the car park that stretched out in front of them, a slow smile spread across her face.

A portly man sat in the driver's seat of an ageing Jeep, immersed in a leather-bound book and seemingly unaware of the world around him. His lips moved silently as his eyes skimmed the text. Knowing he'd never spot them on his own, Lara raised two fingers to her lips and blew a piercing whistle. Absently, the man looked up, and the book fell to the passenger seat, forgotten. Indicating to Kurtis to follow her, Lara threaded her way through slow-moving traffic towards the vehicle in question.

"Lara! _Bonjour, ma chere_!" Scrambling out of the Jeep, the man proceeded to envelop Lara in a bear hug, which she returned just as tightly.

"Jean, it's so good to see you…" Lara stepped back, appearing more at ease than Kurtis had ever seen her. He couldn't help but wonder how they knew each other. Lara's eyes fell on him, and she appeared to collect herself. "Jean-Yves Montalier, this is Kurtis Trent, of Lux Veritatis fame. Jean and I took the same archaeology course in our twenties," she explained to Kurtis, "and we've stayed in touch."

Jean-Yves gave no outward sign of it, but Kurtis instinctively knew he was being sized up as much as he was examining the other man. It was almost funny – they were both seeking to protect Lara from ulterior motives and hurt. Introductions over, they piled into the Jeep, and Lara began to share their theories and details of the Cabal with Jean. Alone in the back seat, Kurtis thought back to how Lara had introduced him. "Of Lux Veritatis fame" was hardly, "This is my boyfriend, Kurtis", and on some level, that hurt. Common sense told him that technically, they weren't that committed yet, but the heart shuns logic more often than it accepts it. As Lara began to talk about the Lux Veritatis, he answered Jean-Yves' questions, but for the most part he was silent, thinking, wrapped around his pain as the Jeep flew down the road towards Jean's Turkish cottage on the outskirts of Istanbul.

An hour later, shown to his room, Kurtis began the task of settling in. A light tap on the door interrupted his thoughts, and Lara entered the room, pushing the door closed behind her. In such an intimate setting, alone with her, Kurtis felt his pulse begin to accelerate.

She perched on the end of his bed, eyes thoughtful. "I'm sorry," she told him quietly. "That Jean and I have been so cliquey. I'm not really up to explaining why just now, but I cut off contact with everyone I know two years ago, and this is the first time I've made contact with any of them since then."

Kurtis shook his head, grateful for the partial justification but still a little stung. "It's okay. You don't owe me an explanation."

She smiled then, amused. "Maybe not," she replied. "But in time, you'll get one." Her fingers slid over the bedspread, touched his. "Are you coming downstairs?" she asked, and Kurtis detected a teasing timbre in her voice. He smiled back, closing his own fingers over hers.

"Actually, I was thinking I'd go and see someone I know in the area," he answered.

Puzzled, Lara drew away. "I thought you said you'd never been to this region before," she said.

Feeling a pang at the loss of contact, Kurtis stood up. "I said I'd never been to Cappadocia. I have a cousin in Istanbul. She came here for a vacation, met a local man, and stayed with him. She's the only surviving family member I have left."

A flash of sympathy, along with curiosity. "Is she Lux Veritatis?"

He shook his head. "No. The Cabal killed them all just in case one of them was late coming into the power. Stephanie was already here at that point, and they never thought to look for her. She escaped the family curse."

Lara raised an eyebrow. "And you? How did you escape it?"

Kurtis decided that now would be a good time to clam up. Better not to reveal everything about himself while she kept her secrets. "I'm not really up to explaining just now," he echoed her earlier words back at her.

Lara nodded. "I'll see you later. Take care." She touched his shoulder briefly, and was gone.

* * *

"To Werner Von Croy." Lara raised her glass of water in a toast. Smiling sadly, Jean-Yves held up his glass of wine and echoed the sentiment. Lara was teetotal – she had given up alcohol when she had been unexpectedly ambushed years ago and had been unable to shoot straight due to inebriation. Jean had no such qualms, and over the last couple of hours of reminiscing had gotten what he called "pleasantly tipsy".

"Now, my dear, let us discuss your new beau." At her feigned perplexity, Jean chuckled. "Oh, don't think you can fool me, Lara. I've seen the way you two look at each other."

Stubborn to the last, Lara examined her fingernails. "Who two?" Not exactly grammatically correct, but Jean was too far gone to notice.

"Why, you and Kurtis, of course." His eyes twinkled good-humouredly. "I can barely remember the last time you were involved. How serious is it?"

Resigned to the upcoming conversation, Lara settled back in her chair. "When I figure it out, I'll let you know." Jean remained silent, expression encouraging her to continue talking. Almost welcoming the opportunity to sound off someone, Lara heaved a sigh. "I've kissed him. Once. I don't know." She shook her head, irritated. "I never get into something I'm not serious about. But I have issues, and he has issues he's not telling me about. And what if I let him in, and he dies?"

"What if you don't, and he dies?" Jean asked, eliciting a wince from her. "You see, my friend, sometimes it is better to simply follow your heart."

Lara opened her mouth to reply, but a slamming door interrupted her. Face set to blandly amiable, Jean reached for the bottle of wine he was polishing off all by himself, and they watched Kurtis approach them. "How was your cousin?" Lara asked, gesturing for him to sit with them.

Kurtis smiled, and Lara's heart kicked. "It turns out she's been to Cappadocia a few times. She has a friend there who might be able to help us." He passed Lara a slip of paper with an address on it. She nodded appreciatively, slipping it inside her backpack.

"I'll hold onto this. You men are always losing things." Her mouth twitched with the urge to smile as she teased him, and into Kurtis' head flashed a visual of himself, pulling Lara towards him and covering those suggestive lips with kisses. He blinked to clear his thoughts as Jean-Yves stood up.

"Come, come, Lara, be nice. You've lost a lot more than I have in your time. Now, I'm going to bed. I've had perhaps a little too much wine." Less than a minute later, Lara and Kurtis were alone on the terrace.

"What did you lose?" Kurtis asked, leaning on the railings and staring out into the still night. Lara joined him, standing so close that if he leaned just a fraction to his left, they would have been standing shoulder to shoulder. She shrugged.

"What didn't I lose?" she replied wryly. "Naïveté, friends… and a whole cornucopia of artefacts my competitors love to take from me." She glanced sidelong at him at the last.

"Damn, you mean I wasn't your first?" Kurtis deadpanned, referring to the Obscura painting he'd taken from her in the Louvre.

Her lips twitched again, and her liquid, russet eyes were teasing as she looked him full in the face. At this distance, the effect was breathtaking. Moonlight and the soft glow of lamps from the house illuminated her face, from the curve of her cheek to the long lashes that framed those striking eyes. She spoke, and he could just, barely, feel her breath caress his face with each word. "You weren't the first, but you were by far the most gentle." Kurtis could tell, by the faraway expression on her face, that for just a split second she flashed back to their first significant encounter amid display cases and paintings. She seemed more than happy with the memory.

Encouraged, Kurtis resumed his perusal of the darkened horizon, feigning a casual, cocky attitude. "Gentle. Not a word I'd use to describe you, I fear."

Lara tensed a little, taking the bait, and her eyes lit with the veiled challenge. "Really? Am I going to have to convince you otherwise?"

Kurtis shrugged, affected nonchalance still in place. Her amusement faded into anticipation as she leaned in close to him, and she let her lips move over his in the slightest of touches, one that sent shivers chasing each other up and down his spine. He began to bring his arms up to slip around her waist, but with light strokes of her hands she discouraged him, staying at a distance, the only flesh pressing against his the voluptuous lips that skimmed so carefully over his own. The lack of contact seemed to make the kiss more intense, and Kurtis ached to respond to her, but she would have none of it, moving back just enough to maintain contact every time he tried to deepen the embrace. He was forced to give up – Lara was in the driving seat, and he was beginning to realise that it was where she loved to be in all aspects of her life.

She moved down his throat with feather-light touches of her lips, halting briefly at his collarbone before making her way back up. She trailed restrained fingertips over his forehead, eyelids, cheeks as she met his lips again… and then, he could no longer feel her. Opening his eyes, Kurtis caught a flash of swinging ponytail as Lara's retreating back vanished through the door.

Alone, disappointment tempered by intrigue, he sagged against the railings and heaved a sigh. "Point taken," he murmured to the empty air.

**

* * *

**

Reviews, please! More of this? Less of this?


	6. Tomb

**A/N:** 'Ello again! As promised… shirtless Kurtis!

**Last revised 11/07/08**

* * *

Tuesday morning saw Lara outside at sunrise, 9mm in hand and a row of cans sat atop the fence thirty feet away. Itching for some target practice, she had obtained permission from Jean out of consideration for his hangover, and promised to stop as soon as their expected visitors arrived. Half an hour later, she was almost ready to finish. She reloaded, and sighted at the lone can stood opposite her, deciding to make her last shot perfect.

One, two – A bullet whistled past her, striking the can, which fell with a resounding clatter to the ground. Instinct taking over, Lara ducked and spun in one fluid movement, eyes narrowed, seeking out her attacker. As recognition seeped into her adrenaline-fuelled brain, she let herself relax a little, rising from her crouching shooter's stance and holstering her weapon.

Kurtis leaned out of the first-floor window to the bedroom Jean had allocated him, Boran X held in one hand and an irritated expression on his face. He was shirtless, and the sight of his muscular torso made her breath catch. "Can't a man sleep?" he asked, running his spare hand through his tousled locks. _Now, there's something I wouldn't mind seeing every morning_. Lara pushed the unwanted thought roughly away and shot him an icy look before beginning to gather up the bullet-peppered cans. She studiously avoided looking at him until her task was complete, and when she turned back to the window, he was gone.

_Bugger._ They'd gotten so close last night. How could everything be so different just a scant eight hours on? She glanced at her watch – still two hours before she could realistically expect Jean's family to pour in. Marianne, his wife, had decided that since Jean was here, they might as well take the opportunity for an impromptu holiday. She and their son, Jacques, were flying in from Nice that morning. Lara was looking forward to seeing them, but she didn't think she could stand to be cooped up in the house until then. Time to go for a drive. "Jean…?" she called.

Five minutes later, 9mm riding in the passenger seat, Lara drove the battered old Jeep full-pelt down the deserted road towards the market town Jean had informed her was half an hour away. It wasn't exactly her Harley V-Rod, but the vehicle could build up a surprising speed for a clapped out, four-wheeled mode of transport.

Twenty minutes after she had set out, Lara arrived at the small settlement. It didn't appear to have a name, as far as she could discern, and 'town' had been an exaggeration. It was more like a small village, with a market square at its heart and a few streets of houses clustered nearby. She stopped the Jeep and got out, pocketing the keys and strolling up to the congregation of stalls.

They held little of interest – fruit and vegetables, hand-dyed clothing, tacky, locally-made jewellery – and she had almost made up her mind to leave when she reached a stall at the end of a row, upon which stood a variety of trinkets and curiosities. Although she was able to keep her head in a crisis, Lara was not altogether infallible. She had a magpie-like weakness for shiny things, and it was this weakness that caused her to stop.

The stall-owner, a toothless old woman, smiled and nodded at Lara as she reached for a small stone box with intricate carvings on its lid. Studying them, she almost dropped the item in shock. _It can't be related. What are the odds that…_

Lara had come across the symbols in the Strahov fortress, carved into a slab of stone that had been positioned underneath industrial saws. At the time, she'd not known what they meant, but, always the scholar, she had jotted some down to analyse later. She'd visited several learned professors, all of whom had been powerfully intrigued, but none of which could shed any light as to their meanings. Now, as she stared in incredulity at the palm-sized box in her hand, she recalled the ancient, unknown language, and knew the two were linked somehow.

Although not fluent in the local language, Lara knew enough to get by. "Where did you find this?" she asked, careful not to sound too urgent.

The woman grinned at her accent, but replied slowly, aware she was talking to a foreigner. "There was an earthquake, last month. A bad one – it swallowed up an entire house. My son was sent with the rescue team, and he brought it back for me to sell."

_A-ha._ "It's beautiful. How much is it?" she asked politely.

The price was extortionate, no doubt because the old woman was beginning to sense its value, but Lara paid up with minimal haggling and tucked it into her backpack. Thanking the ageing merchant, she went in search of the fissure that had managed to swallow a whole house. Since the village was so small, this wasn't a difficult task. She soon located the subterranean crevice, noted the ladder leading down into its depths – no doubt left by the 'rescue team' – and smiled. She would have hated to backtrack to Jean's to procure some rappelling gear, when a mystery lay just beneath her feet. A quick glance around to ensure she was not being observed, and she began to descend the ladder, which ended at a ledge a third of the way down.

From solid ground, Lara studied the walls of the cavern. She was adept at climbing and descending walls, provided the handholds were sturdy enough. It looked as if she was in luck here. As quickly as she could, she made her way down to the bottom of the fissure, losing her grip a scant six feet from the ground and dropping into a crouch as she landed.

Voices above – faint, but audible. Obviously, someone had seen her, or at least suspected someone was down here. Lara touched the holstered weapon at her hip to reassure herself she wasn't without protection, and decided to cross that bridge when she came to it. The hole in the rock amid the wreckage of the house had her undivided attention for now. Testing the ceiling cautiously with a hand, she stooped and began to crawl through, eyes widening in surprise at the sight that awaited her.

A vast chamber was cut into the rock, ornate carvings cut deeply into the walls at intervals. "Amazing," she murmured, reverence flooding her. No one went to trouble like this any more when burying their dead – for bury their dead this race had. The room was empty but for a rectangular stone sarcophagus, lacking the sculptured detail of the Egyptians but still managing to look out of the ordinary. More carvings adorned its surface.

Lara desperately hoped the tomb had not held any more treasures, that the old woman at the market stall had not sold all but that one piece. Somehow, she doubted it. But what was one, tiny, box doing in a room that bore nothing else but a sarcophagus? She looked down at the box, cupped within her palm, as she approached the coffin. _Come to think of it…_ Had the box been broken from the coffin?

She examined the stone lid. A small, square chunk seemed to be missing, and when she placed the box into it, it fitted exactly. Yet it hadn't been forcibly removed. Whatever was in the box, it was meant to be buried with the body, in this precise little groove. However curious she was, something warned Lara not to open it just yet. Instead, she contented herself with trying to lever off the huge, heavy lid of the coffin. The task was as fruitless as she'd expected it to be, but she was determined to uncover every last secret in this fascinating place.

After taking fifty or more photographs of the walls and sarcophagus to download and study later, she crawled back out the way she'd come in, searching for something she could use as a crowbar for the coffin lid. Her profound interest in the carvings had made her unwary, and she stood up in front of three huge, muscle-bound men. None of them looked friendly.

* * *

**What will Lara do? What do the box and tomb relate to? Who are these shady characters? What's Kurtis doing right at this moment? Wouldn't you like to know?!**


	7. Showdown

**Author's Note**: Sorry it's been so long… enjoy! :)

**Revised 19/07/08**

* * *

Kurtis looked out of the window for the umpteenth time. _Where is she?_ Lara had been gone almost three hours, and she didn't seem the type to be easily distracted when they had so much to do. Jean-Yves paced the floor a short distance away, also appearing worried, and thinking aloud.

"This isn't like Lara. What could such a tiny place hold to delay her this long?"

_Thugs, Nephilim, death…_ Kurtis began a mental list. Something was definitely not right – he felt it tickle at the back of his mind. "I'm gonna try to find her," he announced abruptly.

Jean frowned. "How? Lara took the only method of transport, and the town is miles away."

"Not with my body; with my mind. I can see things, travel distances as if I'm walking them, but faster. Kind of like a vision." It was hard to describe. "I'm not sure if I can do it over such a long distance, though." With Jean curiously watching, he closed his eyes and gathered the trickling warmth of his psychic power into one concentrated spot. With one smooth push, he sent it forward, and saw Jean's interested expression, his own body sitting stock-still in a chair, and then directed himself out to the road.

A car passed in a blur – Kurtis got a vague impression of a woman and a child of about ten as passengers – and then miles and miles of road. Kurtis moved as quickly as he could, aware that after about five minutes he would begin to tire and lose grip. When he came to the small marketplace and its surrounding buildings, he located the empty Jeep and cast around for Lara's presence. Any cheap-shot medium would have called it her 'aura', but to Kurtis that just sounded trite. He sensed her – a mixture of defiance, annoyance and racing thoughts – and zeroed in as fast as the power would let him.

In a fissure in the ground, Lara stood in a classic street-fighter's stance, her weapons tossed into a pile a few feet out of reach, surrounded by four gargantuan men. The sight of her imminent danger almost lost Kurtis to lose his grip and retreat to his body with fear for her, but she didn't feel in the least afraid. "Sorry, boys." He heard her clear, ironic voice as if he were stood next to her in body. "I'm taken. Anyhow, I don't go in for four at once."

One of the thugs lunged forward, and Lara dodged, putting a forceful foot into his behind to help him to the floor. "Come on, don't make me kill you–" she started, but ended with a grunt of pain as one of the others backhanded her across the mouth. Clearly pissed off, she straightened slowly, calculating possible moves and modes of escape. Her eyes flickered to her 9mm pistol more than once.

Sick with frustration and anxiety, all Kurtis could do was watch, an intangible presence in this battle against the odds. Lara launched a dazzling flurry of offensive moves, causing two of the men to stay cautiously out of reach as she defended herself against the other two. But she was tiring, Kurtis knew, and every time she tried to fight her way over to her weaponry, she was intercepted. A tinge of desperation crept from her mind into his senses, and Kurtis lost his hold on his Farsight. In one blurred second, he was back in the chair in Jean-Yves' kitchen, Lara's name spilling from his lips.

"What?" Jean was beside him in an instant. "What did you see?"

Kurtis gave him the condensed version, his mind racing. He turned his Chirugai over and over in his hands, something he always did under stress. A glint of light from it caught his eye, and he stared down at it, a flimsy plan beginning to form in his brain. "Wait…" he muttered, interrupting Jean mid-speech. "I have an idea."

* * *

Blood running freely from her lip, head pounding and fists beginning to feel faintly bruised, Lara blinked sweat out of her eyes and ducked the punch her attacker threw her way. She was furious – both with herself for being caught unawares by the fourth brute who had grabbed her from behind and tossed her weapons aside, and with these men who wasted her time and marred her appearance. In the corner of her mind buzzed the uncomfortable realisation that she couldn't keep this up forever, but she kept it carefully from the forefront of her thoughts.

_I've had enough of this._ "We've already established I don't know what the hell you're talking about. What's the point in this?" As expected, they only smirked and moved in again. They were after the box. Whether they were friends of the old stall-keeper or representatives of something completely different, she had no idea, but she was damned if she'd let them have it. Just before they'd searched her, she'd discreetly dropped it into the rubble around her, noting a splintered window-frame nearby so she'd remember where. However stupid they looked, though, her aggressors refused to let it go.

If she could only get to her guns… For the entire duration of the five-minute fight, that had been her goal, but so far, no luck, and she was starting to feel distinctly queasy. Between blows, blocks and dodges, Lara glanced at the rubble around her, looking for something, anything, she could use to gain an advantage. For a wreckage, the house's remains were frustratingly non-threatening. Lara couldn't see it as coincidence. She sighed. The hard way, then.

She feinted left, towards her weapons, and the wall of bad guys closed in again. Before they could touch her, she spun and sprinted in the opposite direction, past one goon who had no idea what had hit him. She hit out at his solar plexus on the way past, and he crumpled in a heap. _Now for phase two._ She ran to the wall she'd descended into the fissure and began scrabbling for purchase, pathetic, little-girl moves. Despite the resistance she had put up prior to this, her charade fooled them, and they slowed in their pursuit, enjoying her 'panic'. Lara dug in her feet and took a couple of steps up the rock face, and they closed in behind her, reaching for her boots at head height. She watched them, muscles tense and burning with exhaustion. If this failed, she was as good as dead.

_Now._ Lara pushed off the cliff-face, turning a perfect backwards somersault and ending up crouched on the floor behind them – right next to her 9mm. She scooped it up and opened fire without remorse, exacting revenge for every scratch. When three of the four were down, she turned her attention to the one she'd knocked down. He was either unconscious, or pretending to be. Lara didn't take her eyes from him as she advanced.

Suddenly, she saw it. On the back of his hand was a tattoo, in blue ink – in every way identical to Karel's unique Nephilim branding. This was obviously one of the Cabal's followers – not Nephilim, or he would have used his powers, but definitely a human acolyte. Her eyes narrowed as she remembered Von Croy's murder, and the memory caused her guard to drop, just a little.

It was enough.

He surged to his feet, deceptively swift for someone so bulky, and had wrenched her gun away from her before she knew what was happening. "Hands in the air."

Lara was about to comply when something flashed in the corner of her eye. _Is that…?_ It was. Lara grinned and folded her arms across her chest. "I don't think so."

His eyes flashed with murderous intent, and he opened his mouth to speak. He managed to utter the first syllable before Kurtis' Chirugai whistled through the air, blades deadly sharp, to decapitate him. The blood-soaked weapon then hovered in the air in front of her face. "Thank you," she told it, on the off-chance Kurtis could hear her. It swelled with orange light for a second more, and then its blades retracted and it dropped to the ground.

Lara picked it up, retrieved the tiny box from the debris, and got out of there fast.

* * *

Sore, aching and fatigued, Lara pulled the Jeep to a halt next to the red rental car that now stood outside Jean's cottage. She got out, the artefact she'd recovered held in an iron grip, and opened the front door.

"Lara! _Mon dieu_!" An attractive woman a few years older than Lara hurried towards her, pulling her into a warm embrace. Lara winced as her injuries screamed, but returned the hug.

"Marianne. It's so good to see you," she replied in French.

Jean appeared in the kitchen doorway. "Come, _ma chere_, we need to look at those wounds." Lara found herself ushered into a kitchen chair, and Jean handed her an ice-pack for one throbbing cheek as Marianne squeezed cold water out of a cloth and began to gently dab at her split lip. The room was silent for a while, concern conveyed through gestures more effectively than words.

"Thank you," Lara said finally, and looked up at Marianne. "Forgive the shop talk, but there's something I need to show Jean." Smiling and rolling her eyes good-naturedly, the woman retreated to the lounge, presumably to check on her son. Jacques had to be around here somewhere.

She held out the box to Jean. "Do you recognise the language? I don't."

Jean examined it closely, as mystified as she. Sighing with regret, he handed it back to her as she told him her theory about a possible Cabal connection, and what had happened while she had been gone. By the end, she was losing her train of thought, her head pounding and limbs shaking.

"Kurtis?" she asked. His absence had been worrying her, especially since his Chirguai had dropped so suddenly.

"He exhausted himself, went beyond his limits," Jean explained. "He went for a lie down, and I'd suggest you do the same for a couple of hours. I'll take photographs of the box and email them to some language specialists I know – that will give you an excuse to rest," he added, knowing she was keen to be on her way to Cappadocia and yet too worn out to go.

Lara needed no further encouragement, and handed him the digital camera with its archive of photographs. "You're a true friend, Jean."

Dragging her weary body past Kurtis' room to her own, she looked around the half-open door. Kurtis appeared to be asleep, lying on the far edge of the bed with his back to her. He didn't stir even when she spoke his name. The bed looked soft and inviting to her fatigued muscles, and suddenly her own room a few feet away felt like too far to walk to gain the rest she craved. Faintly dizzy, she lay down on the free side of Kurtis' bed and closed her eyes. _I'll just rest for a second, and then I'll go…_ It was the last conscious thought she had for a while.

**Ah, but who will wake up first? And what light can Kurtis shed on the box?**


	8. Anatolia

**Revised 19/07/08 - ****due to the fact that I didn't research at the time.**** I've now just about managed to make Anatolia into a region instead of a city, so Lara and Kurtis are now in an unnamed town in said region. Or something. I suck at research so the town doesn't have a name.**

* * *

Kurtis woke slowly, pulled himself out of the dark, relaxing pit of slumber he had unwittingly fallen into. _Damn it. I only meant to rest for a second._ Where was Lara? Was she okay? His earlier anxiety rekindled, he sat up… and froze in surprise. _That answers those questions, then._

Lara was curled up on the opposite side of the bed, her eyes closed and breathing deep and rhythmic. Her face was mottled with emerging bruises, and her lower lip sported signs of a wound, but she seemed otherwise fine. Carefully, so as not to disturb her slumber, Kurtis turned, supporting his upper body weight on an elbow and giving himself a comfortable position to watch her from.

She really was lovely, despite her injuries. And she was in his bed. Well, technically, _on_ his bed, but that was just splitting hairs. Kurtis saw it as a good sign. The question was, what kind of mood would she be in when she woke up? He had never known anyone to blow so hot-and-cold. Last night, kissing him, she'd been as warm and forward as he'd ever seen her. This morning, when he'd shot out her last target… the look she'd sent him could have frozen a tirade of molten metal. He had no idea what she was up to, and was beginning to doubt she did, either.

As if sensing his gaze on her, Lara sighed, and her hand came up to rub at her eyes. Connecting with bruises, she winced and stirred into awareness. Her eyes opened, and realisation poured into them as they fell on his face. "Bugger," she muttered, dropping her gaze and sitting up.

Kurtis suppressed a smile, and couldn't let it go without a sarcastic quip. "Is waking up next to me all that bad?"

She was holding back her own smile, he could tell. "I only meant to lie down for a minute," she told him, masking amusement with annoyance.

Kurtis gave a wry shrug. "Yeah, me too." His eyes fell on the object she held in her clenched fist, and recreation immediately fell to second priority. "What's that?"

Lara frowned, detecting the urgency in his tone. "Do you recognise it?" She let him pluck it from her fingers, but without an explanation she wasn't happy about it.

Kurtis stared at the roughened box as though it was the Crown Jewels. Not that the Crown Jewels would mean much to a Yank, Lara mused, fixing him with a look that demanded his attention. "Do you know what this is?" he asked finally, cobalt eyes gleaming in the sunlight. His voice was full of reverence. At her negative response, he shook his head and returned his attention to it. "It's like… the Lux Veritatis version of the Holy Grail. Only, it exists."

"So does the Holy Grail," Lara observed casually. That gave him pause for a second, and then he shrugged and smiled.

"I'll ask you about that later." Sobering, he held up the box. "If this is what I think it is… Have you opened it?"

"Don't," Lara warned quickly, an innate sense flaring to life to scream at her. Immediately, she felt she'd over-reacted, and had no idea why. Kurtis, however, drew in a breath.

"Then even the part about the magical wards is true…"

"Kurtis," Lara snapped impatiently, "my face is like a Picasso painting, and I ache all over. Just get to the part where you tell me what that thing is."

"The Box of Rosha… It contains the life force of one of two ancient Lux Veritatis warriors… both together can empower or destroy the Cabal and its affiliates forever… where the hell did you find this?" She had never seen him so knocked off balance.

"On a market stall."

* * *

"Jean, anything on the engravings?" Lara stopped short at the kitchen table, her urgency momentarily quelled. "Jacques, how are you?" she queried in French, smiling.

The last time she'd seen Jean and Marianne's only child, he'd been a chubby-cheeked eight-year-old who would run to throw his arms around her every time she visited. This boy was a whole two years older and more reserved. As scholarly as his father, he sat at the table with a book open before him. He smiled at Lara, but she saw a guardedness in his expression that pained her.

"I'm okay," he answered her question with a shrug. "Did you kill those people?"

"_Jacques!_" Marianne scolded from the doorway. "Apologise, now!"

Jacques did, and quietly returned to his book. Marianne sighed and touched Lara's shoulder. "Jean's on the phone. Are you hungry?"

Over sandwiches and tea, Kurtis and Lara listened to Jean's findings: no one knew a thing about the engravings. However, he had arranged their transport to Cappadocia, which would be there shortly, and the rest of Lara's request was in the storeroom. Swallowing the last of her meal, Lara immediately jumped up and left the room, returning a few moments later to hug her long-time friend. "Perfect. Thank you."

Kurtis, meanwhile, had been busy with pen and paper, studying the box and printouts of several photographs Lara had taken. She looked over his shoulder, and her eyes widened as she watched him write. "You can read this?" she asked incredulously.

He shrugged, smiled. "Not just a pretty face," was all he said. "I think we need to stop by Anatolia on the way. That's where the second tomb is hidden, according to this."

Lara could have kissed him, and in fact had to stop herself from doing just that. Instead, she squeezed her shoulder. "Good boy," she teased. "Your reward's in the storeroom, but I've already reserved the Uzi for my use only."

Kurtis followed her out to the small room that led off the porch, separate from the rest of the house. Inside was a small workbench with an array of weapons set out on it next to an empty canvas bag. Kurtis picked up a crossbow, set it down, and hefted an M-16 instead. "Nice."

Lara grinned at him over a Desert Eagle, eyes shining. _She looks like a kid in a candy store_, Kurtis thought, almost affectionately. He barely noticed her injuries as he put the M-16 back on the bench and stepped in close to her. Careful to avoid her bruising, he kissed her forehead, nose, each cheek, before grazing her lips with his own. She sighed, and he drew back to look at her. Her mouth was curved in a faint smile, and her eyes opened almost languorously, as though she had been half-hypnotised by his touch. She shook herself out of it quickly, regaining her poise as she stepped away, but Kurtis stored away that rare, vulnerable moment in his mind.

The sound of an approaching engine drew them onto the porch, and simultaneously, they uttered the same words. "I'm driving."

* * *

"Will you stop sulking?" Lara asked. "It was a fair coin toss."

"I'm not." He could have fooled Lara – for the entire journey he had sat in the passenger seat with arms folded, staring out of the passenger window and barely speaking. She swallowed a laugh and killed the engine of the MG convertible.

"Welcome to Anatolia. The question now becomes, 'is there any room at the inn?'"

A gaunt man with a sullen expression glowered at them as they passed, heading into the gathering darkness. Lara frowned. Something was familiar about him, but she just couldn't place him… Shrugging off her unease, she headed up the steps towards the entrance of a hotel, the only one she'd noticed with a 'vacancy' sign still blazing with a neon glow. Kurtis followed, his boots making almost no noise on the dry pavement.

Despite what the sign may have indicated, the clerk shook his head when she asked for a couple of single rooms. "All we have left is one double," he informed her. Lara chewed thoughtfully on her bottom lip, glancing back at Kurtis.

"It's this, or we sleep in the car," she told him, pushing back images of them sharing a bed and instead envisioning the shower she'd be able to have if they stayed here. Which worked fine – until, in her mind, Kurtis came in to join her.

Kurtis nodded, and she set her mind back to checking them in. Once they had finished with the administration, she picked up her overnight bag, slung it over her shoulder, and headed for the lifts.

"Jim," Kurtis said quietly, behind her. Lara turned. _Huh?_ She followed his gaze to the weight room off the lobby, and realisation dawned. _Oh. Gym. It's been a long day._ Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at herself in the mirror they passed, she ducked into the room and smiled. It had been a long drive, but once she recovered, she'd definitely be visiting this place. Her eyes fell on a large section partitioned off by a glass wall, with a punching bag in the centre and mats covering the floor, and her smile widened.

"Looks like home," she murmured, and continued her earlier course towards the lifts.

Their room wasn't exactly the biggest she'd ever stayed in – two of this size could easily have fitted into her own at Croft Manor – but it was clean, at least. "Our own place, sweet pea," she deadpanned, throwing down her bag and looking around.

Kurtis took a seat on the bed and watched her take the Uzi from her knapsack and place it under one of the pillows. "What's our plan of action, darling?" he asked, using the same dry, sarcastic tone. "It's too dark to find the tomb tonight – we'd miss it for sure."

Lara nodded, examined one of her knives to give herself something to do. Sitting in such a small room with only one bed, with this man she found so compelling, lent an awkwardness to the situation. "I don't know if you want to come with me, but I'm going to look around the place, see what's what. And find some food," she added as her stomach audibly protested.

"Sounds good to me." A short silence, and then something thudded to the mattress beside her. Looking over, Lara saw a bar of chocolate. "Don't want you passing out on the way."

Their exploration of the centre of town bore little fruit. Most places of interest were closed for the night, and what remained open were establishments such as eating-places and clubs. The former, Lara had use for; the latter held no interest. It was still only ten o' clock when they found themselves back in the hotel room again, exhausted from the day's travel and with little inclination to work out. Kurtis had found himself a can of some kind of alcohol, but Lara declined to join him.

"I'd rather be able to shoot straight, thanks."

"One beer isn't going to have that much of an effect."

"Want to bet?" Lara retaliated, and sighed at his grin. "No, I can't hold my liquor. Shut up. I can still hold a knife."

When he had managed to get his amusement under control, he changed the subject. "What's it like, living in the land of tea and crumpets?"

"Isn't that like me asking you what it's like to live in the land of hamburgers and drive-by shootings? Very clichéd." She thought about it. "I spend a lot of time abroad, too. Probably about half my time's spent away from home, in ancient hotspots, like Greece, South America…" She stopped herself mid-sentence, and stared out of the window.

"Egypt? Always wanted to go there." Unwittingly, Kurtis had touched upon her raw nerve. She shuddered as falling architecture thudded around her, cutting off the last traces of sunlight…

"Yes," she murmured softly, closing her eyes to dispel the memory. "I've been to Egypt." When she looked up, he was studying her with an almost compassionate expression. "Just… don't ask," she added sharply, throwing up a hand to deflect any questions. She heard him move out onto the balcony and light up a cigarette, but was too caught up in the past to be irritated. Silently, she gathered up her nightwear and went into the bathroom to get ready for bed. By the time he came in, she was curled beneath the blankets on one side of the bed, eyes closed, pretending to be asleep.

Within half an hour, she felt him slide under the covers at his own side and snap off the bedside lamp. His foot brushed her own briefly, and she controlled her urges to both jerk away from him and reach out to entwine her legs with his. She heard him sigh as he moved away, careful not to invade her space, and hated herself for being so aloof around him. They both acknowledged their mutual attraction, but here they were, in the same bed, ignoring each other. Lara remembered his measuring gaze; the impact of a chocolate bar landing close to her thigh; the expression in his eyes as he drew back from the kiss they'd shared in Jean's store-room. She knew that despite his bravado, she would never find a man more suited to her.

"Kurtis," she whispered. No response. Quashing disappointment, Lara stared at the luminous display of the digital clock ticking the minutes by, and waited for the sleep that evaded her.


	9. Bonding

**A/N:** I love you guys! :D Hope you like this…

**Revised 19/07/08**

* * *

Kurtis stirred and dragged himself into consciousness. Instead of the sunlit room he expected, his eyes opened on darkness, and he frowned, trying to work out what had woken him. It was only when he gave up and rolled over, attempting to slide back into slumber, that he realised the spot Lara had occupied on the bed was empty.

Snapped into full awareness, Kurtis sat up, remembering the strange expression that had crossed her face when he'd mentioned Egypt. Something was wrong, there – he suspected it was this that had roused her at four in the morning. Where would she go? After a moment's contemplation, he recalled her approving smile upon her discovery of the empty room with its punching bag earlier on. He would have bet his life that she'd headed down there.

Less than five minutes later, Kurtis was dressed and slipping silently through the lobby towards the gym, ignoring the appreciative glance the night clerk threw his way. As he threaded his way through the machines in the barely-lit gym, faint music grew louder, and he tracked it to its source – the combat room. Intending to just walk in and initiate conversation, he instead pulled up short at the glass partition separating the room from the rest of the gym and stepped back into the shadows. Lara's bitter expression, her simple, raw emotion, discouraged him from going any further.

She circled the punching bag, scowling viciously. Her hands were balled into fists, held ready in the fighting stance she had adopted, but she merely orbited the bag, almost prowling, making no move to hit out at her 'foe'. Her mind clearly wasn't in the present right at that moment, memories he couldn't begin to guess at distracting her from her purpose.

When Lara finally made her move, Kurtis' concern and bewilderment rapidly turned to admiration. Against the four thugs in the crevasse she had been forced into defensive manoeuvres, but here her fluid, practiced punches and kicks seemed almost to be choreographed, an unusual and graceful dance.

Watching her frustrated blows, punctuated by feminine grunts of exertion, Kurtis got the sense that she was, subconsciously, trying to goad the punching bag into hitting back, into giving her a challenge. Perhaps she wasn't; perhaps his own intrigue and growing feelings for her influenced his thoughts, but whatever the reason, Kurtis found himself pushing soundlessly through the glass door as Lara kicked out so violently that the bag fell from its hook in the ceiling. He saw her lips move in a muttered curse, but it was lost in the music that still played.

Careful to keep movement to a minimum whilst in her line of sight, Kurtis dodged around behind her as she stalked towards the fallen bag, and brushed her shoulder with one hand, moving in the opposite direction as she whirled with a gasp, so that they circled each other.

Recognition, then irritation and something unrecognisable flickered through her eyes as they followed him. Kurtis knew she was pissed off not at him, but at herself for being caught out. He also noticed that her shields were back up – her expression belied none of the bitterness and frustration she had exhibited earlier.

Without uttering a word, Kurtis raised his eyebrows at her, dropping into a combat stance to mirror her own. Understanding his intent, she tensed, nodded, the cool intelligence in her deep, liquid brown eyes intensifying as she watched him for preliminary signs of striking.

The adrenaline surging through him as much triggered by his impending interaction with Lara as by his readiness to attack, Kurtis followed her catlike prowl with his eyes, stalking her as she stalked him. Even before the first strike, a curious tension had built between them: competitive, expectant, sexual.

Waiting for his moment, Kurtis watched her lithe form for sudden tension in a shoulder or hip, any indication that she would use a particular limb to strike first. _Come on,_ he thought, and lunged.

Immediately, Lara was blocking, countering with a drop into a crouch, sweeping a taut leg out to knock his from under him. If she could show off, so could he – Kurtis dove over the attack, transferring his weight to his hands in a controlled forward roll, back to his feet, and upright again. He hit out with a blow to the face, ready to pull up short if it looked as if he would connect too hard, but Lara deflected the blow with her forearm, and in the same heartbeat was swinging a punch at him.

Kurtis was fast coming to realise it took more than brute strength to overcome this woman – she was observant, quick-witted and packed quite a punch herself. He almost regretted the amount of concentration he had to put in, however – he would have loved to watch the fire burn in her eyes as she fought. They traded blow after blow, occasionally reminding each other that they possessed more in the way of skill than simple punches and kicks.

Kurtis hit out again. Instead of ducking, as he had expected, Lara dodged the blow and used the split-second he required to recover to her advantage, stepping in closer to him and around to his back, knocking his legs out from under him in the process. Toppling, Kurtis turned in midair and grabbed hold of her ankles, unbalancing her and catching her by surprise. She landed gracefully, but not before he heard a startled gasp torn from her lungs. That small sound was enough to send a new bolt of energy through him, and before she could recover he was on his knees, grabbing her left arm and pushing it in, twisted, close to her back in an arm-lock.

"I win." He breathed the words over her skin, the first words either of them had uttered to each other since his entrance.

Without warning, she swept her right arm up to the side of his head, and he caught the glint of metal a millisecond before he felt the press of the pistol at his temple. "No, you don't."

Stalemate – although Kurtis was fairly sure she'd take the broken arm in order to pull the trigger, should he be an enemy. He released her arm, and she dropped the gun back into its holster, rising to her feet. "I'm impressed," he told her, working out a tiny ache in his wrist as she rolled back her shoulder, checking for injury.

She looked up, met his eyes, and he had to struggle to keep his own expressionless. Hers were only just beginning to shrug off the residues of determination and genuine pleasure at the competition, and shone with a warmth he was unaccustomed to. She shook her head, and when she spoke, her voice emerged an octave lower than usual, husky. "No – if I hadn't have been armed, I'd have been beaten." Shrugging, she flipped her hair back out of her eyes. "Can't fight and win if you get your arm broken half way through." She held his gaze for another second, as if about to say something more, but then headed for the water dispenser against the wall. Kurtis wondered what, despite his best efforts, his own eyes had told her.

* * *

Reluctant to spoil the atmosphere between them, he refrained from questioning her about her insomnia. Instead, they discussed combat techniques on the way back to their room, and the conversation continued, hopping from one topic to another, until the sun stole over the horizon. Watching it, they were both reminded of their busy day ahead, and their lack of sleep, and let out simultaneous yawns.

Grinning, Lara shook her head. "I think I'm going to try and get a couple of hours of rest."

Nodding agreement, Kurtis ran a hand through his hair – something he always did when weary – and lay back on the bed, careful to stay on his own side. Lara followed suit, but kept herself raised up on one elbow, watching him. Self-conscious, Kurtis returned her stare. "What?"

She seemed to shake herself out of a trance, and cast her eyes down, as if embarrassed to be caught looking. "Nothing." She hesitated, and then leaned over towards him. Pleasantly surprised, Kurtis enjoyed the graze of her lips against his forehead, and reached out for her as she pulled away. All other emotions were lost as their lips met, only a trembling urgency remained, and Kurtis let Lara push him down into a lying position once more, breath catching as she leaned her torso over his, full breasts pressing against him. His tongue slipped tentatively into her mouth, gaining confidence as she responded to him. He felt her heart pound against his chest, and tightened his arms around her, pulling her body in line with his and holding tight. For so long, he'd been afraid of this loss of control around her, but now that she had initiated it, he relished her closeness – the feel of her hands stroking through his hair; her lips against his, one moment soft, the next almost bruisingly rough; her legs entwined with his and her gentle, involuntary sigh as he moved his mouth from hers, down her neck, nipping briefly at the soft flesh at her collarbone.

She whispered his name against his lips, and the English pronunciation made it sound almost like a term of endearment. Fearful of consequences and yet almost out of his mind with desire, he held onto the last threads of his control with grim determination.

Finally, she drew back slightly, and Kurtis watched her with a mixture of affection and trepidation. Her eyes were still closed, lips parted a little, breathing shaky and rapid, although calming. She looked as if she were fighting some inner battle for composure, and was altogether unsure of whether she would win.

When she opened her eyes and looked at him, whatever she saw seemed to calm her and force the warring emotions within her to reach some kind of conclusion. She smiled.

* * *

Lara winced as a ray of morning sunshine hit her closed eyelids, and stuck her head under the covers to escape it, groaning a soft protest. Kurtis' chuckle as he moved from the window to a chair roused her, and she sat up with a resigned sigh. "Bastard," she told him, not without affection.

Kurtis drained his coffee cup and set it back on the shelf. "That's not what you were saying last night," he told her, clearly amused.

Lara's eyebrows shot up. "Ah, so you're one of those." The cool sarcasm was back in her voice, she realised with a tiny pang of regret. She had enjoyed the easiness between then, but she couldn't let him get away with that one.

"One of what?" If Kurtis felt the same small snippet of sorrow, he concealed it well. Lara pushed away unwanted disappointment and met his eyes with her usual challenging stare.

"A gloater." She saw the surprise dart across his face before he managed to throw his neutral façade back up, and knew she'd taken him too seriously – he'd been teasing. _Bugger._ Ah, well; what was done, was done. Before he could reply, she had extracted an outfit from her bag and was heading for the shower.

Closing the door behind her, she faced the mirror and the self-judgement her reflection held for her. Despite only getting four hours of sleep, she felt physically fine, but her reflected image appeared more rejuvenated than she felt. It was a weariness of the soul, not the body, that kept her from feeling a hundred per cent. She was tired of keeping Kurtis out, of holding herself back, of running from her past. But she knew with dead certainty that she wasn't quite ready to halt, turn in her tracks, and face her demons. And until she did – until Kurtis knew the whole story – she wasn't about to fully share herself with him.

Speaking of which… how long had it been? Years. Her last lover, Terry Sheridan, was now incarcerated in a Kazakhstan prison for more crimes than she'd care to recount. His sudden switch to the dark side had deeply wounded her, and as much as she resented the Scot for having any influence in her life, Lara found herself reluctant to dive into a serious relationship without taking the time to scope Kurtis out.

_Damn you, Terry._ Scowling, Lara stepped under the warm gush of water.

As much as she feared such intimate contact with a certain Mr. Trent, she also craved it – desperately. The night before, when she had drawn back from him to make her decision on more neutral ground, she had almost ruled in his favour, pulling back from the path of no return with only marginal control. Lara bit her lip, closing her eyes as if that would discourage the memories that had nibbled at her brain since she had woken up. Typically, it invited them to the forefront of her mind instead, and she abandoned her task of unbraiding her hair in favour of staring into space, the sluice of hot water seeming to transform itself into Kurtis' sure touch, his hands skimming down her body…

_Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!_ Furious with herself, Lara viciously tugged out the rest of the plaiting in her braid and began to wash her hair, counting to ten over and over in her head to distract herself from thoughts that were altogether too pleasurable. Every time her mind wandered to cobalt eyes or large yet surprisingly gentle hands, she busied herself with some new task, determined to get over this silly schoolgirl crush.

When she emerged from the bathroom, her blow-dried hair hanging loose down her back, she carefully avoided acknowledging Kurtis' almost-subtle perusal, slinging down yesterday's clothes on top of her luggage and rebraiding her chestnut locks with deft, practised movements. All the same, she felt his eyes on her back like concentrated beams of sunlight, and closed her eyes, barely noticing she had done it. When she did, she snapped them back open defiantly, refusing to give him the slightest positive feedback.

It was only when the bathroom door clicked shut as Kurtis headed for the shower that she let herself relax.

* * *

Kurtis closed the bathroom door, and began to undress, face creased into a frown. It wasn't that Lara had quietly restrained them both from advancing any further the night before that bothered him. It was her attitude this morning.

In a way, he understood. He wasn't feeling at his most comfortable, either. And as soon as the heady pleasure had faded, he'd been glad things hadn't gone any further.

Well, perhaps 'glad' wasn't the term. If Lara had marched up to him as soon as he went back into the room and began to tear away his clothing, he would have responded in kind without even thinking about it. He still craved her touch more than that of anyone he had ever been involved with before. But half the fun was in resisting it, and he suspected Lara enjoyed their oh-so-witty repartee just as much. And the rest of his doubt came from that underlying fear that things would go wrong, or that they would go too right.

Bizarre.

Kurtis finished his shower and dressed quickly, realising that out of force of habit he'd neglected to bring a shirt into the bathroom. _Well, if she can run around with her hair all loose and sexy, I can go out there without a shirt._ Steeling himself, Kurtis took a breath and opened the door.

Lara was sat on the unmade bed, back against the headboard, legs curled beneath her. She looked up from the book she was reading to watch him cross the room, and hiked an eyebrow at him with a small smile. Kurtis had no idea if the truce was brought on by his state of undress, but he welcomed it nonetheless. Slipping on his shirt, he poured himself another cup of coffee and went back to translating the directions to the second tomb from the photos Lara had taken.

"Could you have gotten out of the arena, like you got me out?" He looked up, into a face that appeared curious and serious at the same time.

His hand involuntarily strayed to the recently-healed wound at his abdomen at the memory as he realised what had caused her to bring up the subject. "I'm not sure."

"Did you try?" At his negative response, she tilted her head to the side, studying him. "Why?"

"A Lux Veritatis warrior can't choose his battles." He said it with such irony that Lara knew he was quoting someone.

"Oh? Who says?" she prodded, drawing the topic away from his scar. As much as he may have convinced himself it didn't matter, she knew it was a sore spot for him in more ways than one. She longed to show him it didn't matter to her, with her eyes, her hands, her lips… She dropped her eyes for a second, afraid the emotion in them would betray her.

"My father did." Not a less painful subject, then. But when she looked up, she saw some kind of acceptance in his face, and knew he'd come to terms with it – revenge kick aside, of course. _Lucky him._

"Did you get on?" She should drop it, she knew, but parents were something she hadn't had for a long time, and she missed it, in some ways.

Kurtis smiled wryly. "Where it counted. On everything else, I liked to have my own opinion."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"How about your father?"

Lara snorted. "I don't have a father. Haven't since I was twenty-one."

Kurtis winced. "Sorry," he apologised softly. "Did he go down fighting?"

Lara fought to keep a straight face, envisioning Lord Henshingly Croft, a portly man who had a wine glass perpetually nestled in one hand. She lost the battle for composure and grinned. "He wouldn't know a weapon if it hit him in the face. Very eminent aristocrat; very limited brain power," she explained, amusement lacing her voice. "Lives down in Kent now, with Mother Dearest. They disowned me for having an attitude, and after I inherited Croft Manor from well-wishing distant relatives, they moved out of Surrey altogether." She shrugged. "Suits me fine."

Kurtis shook his head, smiled. "I should have known."

"Hmm…" Shaking her head back at him, she returned to her book. Clearly, she didn't want to talk about it.

"Ready to go?"

She looked up again, half-smiled. "I thought you'd never ask."

**

* * *

**

Isn't it about time Karel made an appearance…? I think so, don't you?


	10. Enemies

**A/N**: You're going to hate me after this chapter, I just know it… grin But it had to be done, I swear… things were just getting too teddy-bear-like!

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

An hour later, they were striding across the dusty plain on the outskirts of the city. Kurtis held his translated directions in one hand and consulted them frequently, appearing more and more agitated as they neared their destination.

"Kurtis, what?" Lara asked finally, exasperated.

"The Sleeper was exhumed in Anatolia. I have a nasty feeling that whoever came up with that bright idea stopped off where we're headed, too."

Lara stared at him. "Nice of you to share that little gem of information with me," she said with heavy sarcasm. "Are you sure?"

Kurtis hesitated. "Despite the fact that my informant on that one was a Strahov sanitarium inmate, I'm fairly sure."

"Forgive me if I hold on to my disbelief for a while longer," the brunette told him dryly. All the same, she quickened her pace.

Finally, they reached a sinkhole in the middle of the almost-desert. Footprints in the sandy earth confirmed Kurtis' worst fears, and he cursed fluently, dropping and hanging by both hands into the underground passage and falling into a crouch to lessen the impact of his landing. The shaft of sunlight was blocked out as Lara followed suit, landing with a grunt by his side.

Chirugai in hand, conscious of Lara's warmth at his back, Kurtis moved down the subterranean passageway, slowing his pace when the walls turned from rough-hewn rock into smooth, carved out structures with the same style of carvings that had been in the first tomb. Distracted by reading the ancient eulogies, Kurtis was not one hundred per cent focused on the possibility that there might be enemies up ahead. Lara brushed past him, .45 held in both hands at shoulder height, and he hurried to catch up.

The passageway ended in a cavern much like the one in Istanbul. Empty but for the rectangular sarcophagus in the centre, it still managed to teem with culture due to the plethora of elaborate etchings on every surface. Whilst Lara kept her back to the wall, pacing the huge room in her search for hostile objects or people, Kurtis strode towards the coffin with single-minded intent.

_Wait…_ Lara's eyes widened as she took in some unfamiliar niches in the wall, almost level with Kurtis… "Kurtis, freeze!" she yelled, darting forwards and toppling him with an unexpected tackle. Above them, as they thudded to the ground, sharp wooden spikes thrust inwards with enough force to skewer them like so much meat.

Feeling too shocked and stupid to savour Lara's closeness, Kurtis remained prone even as she cautiously sat up. "One thing I learned from Werner – disrespect is the route to carelessness," she told him ironically, remembering the words so long ago spoken with that unmistakeable German inflection.

Carefully, she got to her feet, avoiding triggering the trap a second time and ready to dive to the side at a moment's notice. To be on the safe side, she rolled a pebble from their position to the foot of the sarcophagus, but no hidden traps revealed themselves. As they drew closer to their goal, the obvious became apparent – the tiny Box of Rahil they sought was absent from its groove in the stone.

While Kurtis was vocal in his frustration, Lara only sighed and got out her camera. "Back to square one." It wasn't until she turned to get a shot of the keystone above the entryway that she expressed any sentiment. "Bugger."

Kurtis was engrossed in translating the carvings on the huge stone coffin. He didn't look up, only muttered, "You can say that again."

"No, Kurtis – look." Her voice was cold and steel-hard, and he frowned, followed her gaze.

"What the _fuck_?" Instantly, his Boran X was out of its holster and pointed towards the lone figure stood at the entrance to the tomb.

"Bullets won't do any good, you know," Joachim Karel informed them casually. Before their eyes, he transformed, pale flesh moulding into new features. A mouth set in a grim line, with no hint of the smile that could appear if provoked. Tendrils of hair fell into striking blue eyes.

Kurtis' face. Lara sighed. "That's a somewhat limited repertoire you have there," she said, masking her inner turmoil with defiance.

"I choose what's effective," came the reply, still in Karel's smooth English tone. Faux-Kurtis winked at her. "Face it, Ms. Croft. You couldn't shoot me, even if it had any effect."

Lara gritted her teeth and said nothing. Her aim did not waver, but both she and Kurtis knew she could not stomach firing at Karel, not while he wore Kurtis' visage. Kurtis, for his part, felt strangely detached from the situation. "Never hurts to get in some target practice." The Boran X fired once, and a neat, round hole appeared as if by magic between Karel's stolen eyes.

_Surely a bullet to the brain has to stop him for a little while…_ Lara's hopes were abruptly crushed as the injury seemed to close in on itself, leaving smooth, unblemished skin. _Of course not.__ Silly of me to even think it._ "Where's the box?" she asked, before he could begin to gloat.

"None of your business. Where's Rosha?"

"Ah, well, that would be none of yours." She traded glances with Kurtis, who shrugged. He was out of bright ideas, too. They had to face the truth: without Periapt Shards or the Box of Rahil, they were utterly defenceless against this hybrid. As Karel began to advance, the germ of an idea nagged at the back of her mind, but whether it would work was a different story.

Kurtis began to move to meet him, but Lara grabbed his arm and dragged him back. "I do _not_ want to have to play pick-a-Kurtis. Stay here," she ordered. To her surprise, he did, and she wondered if he had caught her train of thought.

A sinister green glow began to pulse through Karel's skin, and Lara drew in a sharp breath. _Oh, wonderful. Pick us off from a distance, why don't you?_ Her only hope now was to stall his attack. "It was you stood outside last night," she stated, remembering the gaunt man who had set off alarm bells in her head. "You changed just enough that I wouldn't recognise you…"

"And knew exactly where you were all night," he finished, smiling a little. "But where's the fun in finishing you off while you still had a goal?"

Lara paused in her mental calculation of how long it would take for him to reach the spot she had in mind. "The earthquake in Istanbul," she began, and was again interrupted.

"No minor feat, even for one of my race, I think you'll agree," he confirmed proudly.

"And the lives of the people who happened to live above the tomb were inconsequential, I suppose?" _Come on, just a few steps more…_ Beside her, Kurtis tensed slightly, and she knew he had grasped her plan.

"Inconsequential. I like that word. Very descriptive. Very apt–" He stepped onto the tile level with the wooden spikes, and they slammed in from either side, running him cleanly through the neck, chest and abdomen. With the utter shock and pain of the unsuspecting, he screamed in agony, and lost his grip on Kurtis' form. Veins and blonde hair made their reappearance, and the green fire faltered for a second.

"Let's get out of here." Kurtis right behind her, Lara ran around the outskirts of the tomb as Karel summoned all of his strength to hurl bolts of green energy their way. One grazed Lara's thigh, and she stumbled with the sudden flare of agony and weakness. Kurtis' hands at her waist steadied her, and they put on a final burst of speed to dive into the tunnel.

"You still have Rosha?" Kurtis asked, boosting her up out of the sinkhole and pulling himself out after her.

Her response was to pull the tiny box out of her backpack. He reached for it, their brush with disaster inflaming a sense of cataclysm, but she dropped it back into its resting place before he could take it. "Come on. He'll be out of that in five minutes, maybe less."

As she set off in the direction they'd come, following their footprints, Lara knew she was being paranoid. Kurtis was Kurtis, after all. Yet Karel's reminder of his abilities had struck deep, re-awakening the tiny voice inside that warned her to trust no one. Behind her, she heard his sigh, and knew there would be repercussions from this. Right now, she didn't care. The only thing she wanted was to be away from this place, and the horror it contained.

* * *

The room was quiet. Kurtis studied the batch of photographs Lara had taken in the Tomb of Rahil, intent on translating the inscriptions. Lara stood out on the balcony, staring out at the skyline as it gradually pinkened with the setting sun. 

_Face it, Ms. Croft. You couldn't shoot me, even if it had any effect._ Karel's words replayed over and over in her head, the truth in them biting at her with sharp, venomous teeth. He had been right. Kurtis made her weak. A hesitation could cost her her life, but the thought of putting a bullet through Kurtis in error…

_Enough.__ I have to cool this._ That was, if it wasn't already cooled to the point of freezing. On the journey home, Kurtis had barely spoken, and Lara had been too lost in her own contemplation to say anything. She had a feeling she wouldn't have to do much to stall their budding relationship, fragile as it was. But that could wait a while. For now, they had to figure out their next move. She returned to the room and threw herself into the desk chair where she had been sat with a pad of paper, equal measures doodling and setting out her thoughts. "Anything?"

Kurtis glanced up from his translation. He was half-sat, half-laid on the bed, photographs strewn around him, and as he looked up, he shook a few strands of hair impatiently away from his eyes. The gesture was so idiosyncratic, so Kurtis, that sorrow slammed into Lara's chest, mingling with the attraction that resided there and sending bittersweet waves of emotion through her. She blinked and forced herself to listen to his words. "It's mostly just directions to Rosha, and the same legend behind it as was in the first tomb. I think we're out of luck with the ancient signposts."

Lara nodded. She had expected this. "And with no contemporary sources as to Rahil's location, we're wasting our time here. I'm betting Karel took it to Cappadocia, since that's the place everything seems to centre on. I think we need to move on." Her last sentence mocked her, and she leafed through her sheets of diagrams and flow charts to distract herself from acknowledging the double entendre.

"And if he's kept it in the area…?"

"He hasn't. Trust me." As soon as the words fell from her lips, she regretted the phrasing. Kurtis immediately leapt on it.

"Why? You obviously don't trust me."

_Ouch._ Lara pushed away the sting of guilt and met his eyes. Instead of the apology she knew she should give, defensive words formed instead. "I can think of a few instances where trust has nearly gotten me killed."

"I couldn't leave you!" Werner's hand outstretched, offering salvation, as the earth shook. A brief moment of imbalance as she hung with one hand, beginning to reach up to take his. Werner's back turning as he hurried out of the danger zone. Pain. Blackness. 

Shrugging out of the memory, Lara began to pace. Kurtis' cutting words could not have hurt more if they were razor blades. "So suddenly you're shying away from life on the edge, because of this incident you won't tell me about? A little cowardly, don't you think? Or maybe I'm wrong. Maybe a cold, heartless bitch is all you've ever been." His voice was contemptuous, and inflamed her anger. She looked back at him, ready to retaliate with strong words, but the lack of scorn in his eyes killed them on her lips.

"I can't do this. I thought I could, but I can't." _That's pathetic, Lara. Get a grip._ Self-loathing kicked in, and she turned it on him. "If it takes being cold and heartless to keep me alive, that's the path I have to take. If Karel gets hold of this, the world is fucked. And the only way he gets it is if I die. Are you seeing my logic, or are you just too American for that?"

Kurtis stood, obstructed her path so that she was forced to stop pacing. His face only inches from her own, he stared into her eyes, his own hard and sarcastic. "Here I thought we were in this together. Shouldn't that be, 'the only way he gets it is if _we_ die?'" He paused, but before she could retaliate he continued. "No. That would be too much to ask, wouldn't it? God forbid that Lara Croft get close to anyone."

"Ah, so now we get down to it," Lara replied, voice calm and cool. "Your argument with me isn't just a business issue, is it?"

"Get over yourself." Kurtis moved past her, to stare out at the sunset as she had done.

"You know what? I'm not a team player. I've always been a loner, and that's the way I work best. It just so happens I need your expertise on this one, but that's all I need." She paused, glared at his back. "Screw this. I'll be back later."

As she opened the door, she heard his quiet, controlled voice throw one last parting shot at her. "Sure, that's all you need, but is it all you want?"

His only answer was the slam of the door.

* * *

Taking the stairs down to the lobby two at a time, Lara winced as she realised she'd left the keys to the car on the dresser. There was no way she was going back for them, back into the room that radiated anger and pain, so it appeared she was stuck in the area until her tormented mind had calmed. 

_Fine.__ These boots were made for walkin'._ She couldn't stay in the gym – if Kurtis found her there, it would be all too easy to reconcile with him, if they'd even been united in the first place. Venturing out into the twilight, she set a course down the main street, in the opposite direction to that she and Kurtis had wandered the night before, on their arrival. This was decidedly the seedier side of town, and Lara passed many stores of a questionable nature as she headed out of the commercial area, barely registering the jeering propositions of the local scum. Her mind was caught up in quiet agony, self-loathing, and a lust for vengeance.

Once she figured out how to stop him once and for all, Karel was going to wish he'd never been born. In the meantime, however, she had more private matters to deal with. Kurtis had accused her of being a 'cold, heartless bitch', a coward, and distanced. In return, she'd thrown at him… not a hell of a lot. In a way, she regretted that. He could be so irritating, and on more than one occasion she'd had to suppress the urge to slug him in the face. Yet, she realised, neither of them had really had the heart to argue. Despite his accusations, those captivating eyes of his had never been as harsh as his words.

_Sure, that's all you need, but is it all you want?_ He damn well already knew the answer to that one. Frustrated, Lara kicked out at a stone, which skittered a good few metresbefore stopping. "What am I supposed to do?" she asked aloud, but the air around her held no answers. With a sigh, Lara took stock of her surroundings, and froze. Her musings had pushed into the background her senses of time and distance, and she stood on the edge of a vast desert, the air cool with the onset of night. "Shit." Turning, she saw the lights of the city wink at her, and then looked back at the silent expanse of sand that reminded her of so much.

Closing her eyes, Lara forced her mind past the numbing exhaustion and thirst of her days alone, stumbling and crawling through the sands of Egypt in search of civilisation. Instead, she concentrated on her months with the shaman and her tribe, her days as 'El Hawa', protective Desert Wind of the nomads of North Africa. There were many happy memories to draw on – her initiation into the tribe, the day-to-day tasks she carried out gratefully, glad to bury the memories of her old life… but into her mind flashed the one recollection that hurt her the most. Her tribe lay about their camp, bloodied and blank-eyed, having been taken unawares by marauders whilst Lara rode off alone to check the surrounding area for threats.

Her throat contracting painfully, frustration welling uncontrollably within her chest, Lara took a shaky breath and screamed defiance into the wild landscape, over and over again. At first, her cries were wordless, but as she continued to rant, the dialect of the tribe came to her lips, spoken for the first time since that day. She cursed gods and monsters, humans and animals, herself, everything she could think of, before dropping to her knees in the sand silently, her throat raw and scratchy. _You've lost it, Croft. Gone completely over the edge._ It was so tempting to just walk into the desert and disappear forever, casting aside her commitments, her worries, her fears.

Yet something – perhaps her pride, bred into her by the nurses and nannies of the English aristocracy – forced her to turn, slump-shouldered, and begin the trek back to town. She had barely gone two steps before a smooth, cultured voice jerked her into full awareness.

"That was impressive, I must say. Especially the part about me. I had no idea anyone could be that creative with forms of torture."

Joachim Karel stood, arms folded, in front of her, flanked by six of his followers. There was no way she could escape from him, not this time.

* * *

**Uh-oh… Right, hit the little purple-y button to express your shock and outrage (or, alternatively, your "This sucks!" comments), and I will update as soon as I can from the safety(?) of the hotel room as Kurtis waits for Lara to return… :p**


	11. Reunited

**A/N**: Hi all… I have arrived to put you out of your misery… :grin: Hope you like. More Karel, more evil, and more explanations… plus, Lara acting like an upper-class brat!

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

Dawn stole over the horizon, and Kurtis abandoned any pretence that he would be able to get some real sleep. All night, he had tossed and turned, expecting Lara to appear at any second, waiting for the click of the door that never came. Now that morning had arrived, his anxiety shrugged past his anger and planted itself firmly at the front of his subconscious. He told himself it was because she possessed the one object Karel needed to get his hands on, but deep down knew he needed to know she was safe.

Half an hour later saw him showered, dressed and pacing the room. Whether she trusted him or not, he needed her here, icy stare and all. Even a cool, reserved Lara was better than no Lara at all. Fidgety, Kurtis picked up the notepad she had been scribbling in whilst he had worked on his translation the previous evening and began to flick through it.

It was a mess of arrows, flow diagrams and all sorts of phrases. Kurtis followed Lara's train of thought as she had set it down on the page. 'Box of Rosha + Box of Rahil ?' sat at the top of the page. Kurtis couldn't help her out on that one; the texts were somewhat ambiguous. All he knew was that in Lux Veritatis hands it was fatal to the Nephilim race, and in the hands of an angel-human hybrid… the world was pretty much doomed to Nephilim domination.

'Cappadocia – Nephilia Veritas' was underlined and linked by an arrow to the equation. Lara had placed a tentative question mark beside it, but Kurtis could clear that one up a little. Whatever ritual that needed to be performed would be performed there; although he had never heard of the temple before Lara came across it, he had no doubt about this.

'Location of Rahil – vital. If no clue in Rahil's temple, where has Karel taken it?' Linked to that was the notation about Cappadocia, with more question marks.

The brief back-story Kurtis had given her was jotted underneath this. 'Angel + human Nephilim. Rosha + Rahil the two Lux Veritatis warriors who banished the last angel from the corporeal plane, though they both died in the process. L.V. gathered life essences + shut them in the boxes to be kept with the bodies for all time. Bodies in close proximity keep essences alive, meaning once taken regular human life expectancy begins. Only together can Rosha and Rahil bring back… what?' Once more, she had hit the same brick wall.

The last notation on the page, barely decipherable amidst a plethora of obscure doodles, made him smile. 'Do Nephilim die of old age?' _If only it was that easy,_ he thought, sighing.

The door swung open. Kurtis whirled, and instantly readied his Chirugai for battle. _Of course, she's not safe, idiot. She has the box, and she's out there alone._ His heart sank to the pit of his turning stomach as Joachim Karel closed the door behind him and sat on the bed with the attitude of a trusted friend. "Where is she?" Kurtis growled, not bothering to launch a futile attack.

"She didn't put up much of a struggle, I regret to say," Karel sighed, mocking smile showing through the disappointed façade. He reached into his pocket, and withdrew a tiny box. "But at least I have what I came for."

Nausea hit Kurtis at full speed, and he strove to quell the loss that writhed through his veins. Keeping his face hard and expressionless, he asked again, "Where is she?"

"Oh, you're no fun," Karel complained, tossing the Box of Rosha into the air and catching it again before depositing it back into the depths of his coat. "Ah, well. I suppose it wouldn't be sporting to kill you without seeing your lover one last time."

He stood up, and his face began the shift of metamorphosis. Kurtis could only watch in quiet revulsion as features reshaped themselves until Lara stood in front of him. But this was not the Lara he was accustomed to.

The bruises she had borne from her battle in Istanbul had faded – she healed quickly – but this face bore a vicious gash to the forehead, a bloodied lip and nose, and multiple scratches and bruises that marred her beauty. The hair was tangled, bloodied and full of dust or sand. The posture was all wrong. Shoulders slumped, and she – it? – favoured one leg in taking a step forward. The eyes were defeated and lacklustre, and the figure breathed with wheezing gasps, obviously in pain.

Rage flared through Kurtis' every cell, powered by fear, and he leapt at the figure, knowing that Karel resided inside it. The Chirugai flashed out, still held in his hand, and cut a clean slash through the thing's neck, half-decapitating it. He couldn't have made a worse mistake at that moment. Instead of shifting back to himself to retaliate, Karel retained his wounded-Lara guise, falling against the bed and scrabbling backwards, desperate fear in the usually confident eyes. Those eyes accused him, and despite the absurdity of it, guilt swept over Kurtis. He took a step back… into the waiting arms of the flunkies he had neglected to notice enter the room.

Caught by each arm, the Lux Veritatis warrior struggled against his captors, his Chirugai flying through the air again. Abruptly, it dropped to the floor, as stunned as Kurtis himself, as one of the thugs hit him around the head – hard. The last thing he heard as he faded into unconsciousness was Lara's voice coming from the thing that was Karel. "No easy death for you, my lad. I'll see you in the torture chambers."

* * *

Lara winced as she came around, screwing tender eyes up against the light and groaning. The sound barely travelled past her exhausted larynx, emerging a half whimper, half sigh. Her throat was a little better from her period of rest but she had a feeling she'd be whispering for a few hours yet. Steeling herself against the pain, she set her palms against the cold stone of the floor and pushed up into a sitting position.

"Here. Drink this." The voice made her jump, and she reached in vain for a pistol that was long confiscated. Looking up, she saw a man branded with Karel's tattoo sat in a chair a few feet away, holding out a small cup of something. Gathering her thoughts, she tried to ask, 'what is it?' but got no further than the first syllable before she had to break off. The full agony of her injuries – throbbing head, swollen ankle and all – returned in full force.

"Fuck," she croaked. "What is it?"

"Magical restorative," he answered briskly. He was blonde, grey-eyed and suspiciously nondescript. Probably Nephilim, she decided.

His answer made her laugh, and she quelled it as the smile stretched her healing lip and cracked the wound back open. "Why would you take all this trouble to do this–" she gestured to her battered appearance "– and then heal me?"

He leaned forwards. She saw something human in his eyes, and withdrew her earlier assumption that he was Nephilim. "Let's just say, I'm a double agent."

"Of course you are." Lara took the cup full of clear liquid from him and examined it suspiciously. It was viscous, gluey, but as she inhaled its scent, her headache receded a little. Raising an eyebrow – and wincing at the pain – she raised it to her lips. _And if it's sedative, I don't care,_ she decided wearily. _I can't escape in this condition, and I could use the sleep._ She drained it, and gasped as coolness flooded through her. In disbelief, she watched the skin on either side of a scratch on her arm knit together. The wound disappeared. "What…?" she asked, and raised a hand to her throat. Her voice was clear and normal, and she felt no pain. Exploring her face with her hands, she found no trace of injury anywhere, and smiled. "Thank you."

He shrugged, stood up and made to leave. "Wait," Lara asked him. "What do you care if I'm healed?"

"If I told you, you wouldn't believe me," he replied. "I have to go. There's another to be tended." Lara was left in contemplation of his words and the cell she sat in. _Another?__ Kurtis? Or another potential ally?_ Whoever it was, she wouldn't find them by sitting here. Physically revitalised, she got to her feet, refusing to consider the possibility that Kurtis was dead. She reached around to her back and removed her tiny, flat knife from her bra strap. Amazing how many idiots would conduct a full body search and think that the bulge at your back was part of your bra fastening. Shaking her head in relieved amusement, she pocketed the weapon for plan B and began to inspect the walls, floor and ceiling of her cell for loose stones and mortar.

* * *

Mr. Double Agent sat quietly outside the cell while a newly healed Kurtis bombarded him with questions. After a couple of minutes of this frustrating silence, he turned on the guy. "For a spy, you're not very helpful. Can't you tell me anything, or let me out? Cause, if not, will you go away? You're starting to really bug me."

"Your ally is just down the hall." Without another word, he left, leaving Kurtis standing motionless in the middle of his cell. Relief swept over him. Despite Karel's visual implication that Lara was still alive, it hadn't quite sunk in until now. _Thank god…_

Snapping himself out of it, Kurtis realised he was now alone. Perfect. Time to go to work. Calling on his Farsee ability, he moved outside the cell, leaving his body behind. _First, check on Lara. 'Just down the hall' in which direction?_ He chose left first, and examined each cell in turn, finding no occupants. Reaching the end of the corridor, he retraced his steps and returned to his body to gather his strength. After a moment, he ventured out again, keeping a wary eye out for guards who might find him stood trance-like in his prison. Four cells down, finding no trace of Lara, he was beginning to lose faith in his informant. _If she's not in this one…_ he thought, moving towards the last cell.

Success! Lara, looking as healthy and unblemished as he had ever seen her, examined the walls with both hands, eyes narrowed to slits in determination. Unable to resist, Kurtis moved his mind closer, to brush his ethereal hands over her arms. She paused mid-push, rubbing at her arms as if she were suddenly cold. Then, with a glance around the cell, she seemed to dismiss it, and returned to her search.

_Good. She's okay._ His mind at rest for the moment, Kurtis re-entered his body and sat on the hard, lumpy mattress in the corner of the room. _Phase__ two: find my damn Chirugai._ He concentrated, felt the weapon on the perimeter of his senses. He was just about to begin the arduous task of calling it to him when he heard two things: footsteps, and yelling. The voice, he recognised instantly, and grinned.

"Hey! Yes, I'm talking to you! Don't you dare ignore me! Do you know who I am?" She was clearly playing the spoilt aristocrat, but to what end, Kurtis had no idea. He propelled himself out into the corridor again, and watched the guard halt in indecision, not sure whether to respond or feign deafness. Finally, after a tumult of insults to his manhood, his sanity, and his mother, he stomped over.

"What?"

"There's a spider in this cell! I hate spiders. Can't you move me to a new cell, pretty please?" Instantly, she had reverted to the stereotypical woman, quavering and weak, yet coquettish. Kurtis almost lost his grip on the Farsee power in his amusement.

With a long-suffering sigh, the hapless guard issued his instructions. "Step up to the far wall and place both palms against it, miss." Kurtis couldn't believe this was working, but also couldn't see how it would help her. Without a weapon, the guard would be able to overpower her easily. He carried a K2 Impactor and was twice her weight, to boot. He moved into the cell, interested to see how it would play out.

"Okay, where the fuck's this spider?" He moved to Lara's side, held the electrically charged gun to her head and scowled. Lara inclined her head into the corner, appearing for all the world meek and mild. The guard turned his head to look… and Lara shot one hand out with lightning speed. _What…?_ Kurtis drifted closer, unsure what had happened, as the guard gasped and choked, raising both hands to his heavily bleeding throat and letting the Impactor drop to the floor.

"What spider?" Lara asked, wiping the tiny knife she held on her jeans and pocketing it in favour of the guard's weapon. Quickly, she searched him as he weakened and died. "A-ha." A ring of keys disappeared into her jacket pocket, and then she was in the hallway. Kurtis jolted back to himself and waited for her to find him, as useless as he felt.

"Where the hell did you get a knife?" he called through the door as her footsteps approached.

"Incompetence of the masses," she replied, unlocking the door. It opened, and they merely stood for a second, checking each other for injury and thanking whatever gods were out there that they were still alive. The argument of two days before still remained unresolved, but there was business to take care of first. "Come on. He has Rosha, and I want to get it back before he uses it."

"It has to be a full moon… that's tonight. We're safe for now, but we need to find out where we are, where he is, and how to find the box." Kurtis led the way down the hall, following the mental pull of his Chirugai. In silence, Lara followed him, Impactor in hand.

With the help of the guard's keys, they soon left the dungeon-like prisoner block far behind. Wherever they were, the place was huge, and as twisted as a rabbit warren. Only the link to his weapon kept Kurtis from becoming hopelessly lost. Minutes passed spent ducking into doorways to avoid groups of cult members, and the swift dispatching of lone men. Finally, they reached a flight of stairs, and the maze of corridors seemed to end on the level they left behind.

"You were right, you know," Kurtis said, voice barely audible. She knew without asking that he referred to their spat in the hotel room, but was unsure of the implication of the admission. Did he agree they should cool it off, or just that she couldn't afford to trust anyone? A guard yelled an alarm to his colleague, and they both charged towards the duo. Lara kicked herself for not having spotted them sooner, and tossed Kurtis the Impactor, getting out the Magnum she'd confiscated from an unwary enemy on the way up the stairs. Together, they attacked.

"I hardly think this is the time, Kurtis," she replied, aiming and firing off a shot.

"Yeah? When's the time, then? When one of us is bleeding to death on the floor because we're not communicating effectively enough?" Simultaneously, both targets dropped, one writhing with an electrical impulse, the other with a bullet cleanly through his skull.

Lara had to admit he had a point. The atmosphere was more than a little strained. "Right about which part? Your argument with me not being just a business issue?" she asked nonchalantly, ducking to search the pockets of the slain guards and examining a security pass.

"Amongst other things." Kurtis leaned against the wall, refusing to go any further until this was sorted out. Frustrated by his evasiveness, Lara scowled at him.

"Go ahead, then. Spell it out for me. An hour ago I had a concussion, so forgive me if I'm a little slow on the uptake."

Succinctly, Kurtis explained what had gone on in the moments before his capture, ending with, "I'd have a hard time attacking something that looked like you a second time." He pushed off the wall and took a step down the corridor. "That's your cue to say, 'I told you so', by the way."

Lara bit her tongue to resist the urge to do just that. It had probably cost him some pride to admit he was in the wrong. "You had your points, too," she conceded, following him down the hallway. At his raised eyebrow, she shrugged. "I'll tell you what happened to me, if we ever make it out of here. I refuse to accept that I'm a cowardly, heartless bitch, however," she added pointedly.

"Yeah, sorry about that." He at least had the decency to look embarrassed.

Lara shrugged again. "It's okay. I realise you Yanks don't possess the greatest capacity for insightfulness." Her eyes sparkled with amusement.

"Watch it, or I'll do something I'll probably regret."

"Such as?" she goaded lightly. Kurtis just smiled, and moved off ahead, leaving her with her imagination. _Watch it, Croft. Weren't you supposed to be cooling this off?

* * *

_

**Nothing like a good capture to heal the rift… :)**** The next update will probably be shorter, but I have two L/K songfics up if you haven't found them, and I'll probably be writing another soon… I'm in music mode. :) Now, review! Clicky clicky!**


	12. Revelations

**A/N**: This next scene is one of my favourites… for two reasons. One, it plays out like a scene in one of the games (if there was a two-player option). Two… Lara gets to give Kurtis the finger. :grin: God, I'm juvenile…

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

Kurtis' Chirugai, it turned out, was stored with Lara's backpack and pistols in an unlocked room on the top floor – one flight of stairs below ground level. Studying the map of the complex tacked to the wall, Lara shook her head in amazement. "This place is completely subterranean."

"And I'd bet my life they have Rosha in there." Kurtis indicated a room three floors below them, annotated with abbreviations so obscure neither of them could puzzle it out.

"Now, if only we could ignore the big red letters all over it that scream 'this is a trap!'" Lara observed tensely. Kurtis winced in agreement. That their weapons and a map to their goal would be placed conveniently in the same room was just too much of a coincidence.

"What choice do we have?" he replied, reaching for the blueprint and yanking it from the wall.

"Absolutely none… hang on." Lara stayed his hand from folding it up and held it up to the light, studying the side that had faced the wall and sucking in a triumphant breath. "Look. Trap–" she pointed to the large room Kurtis had indicated, "–and goal." From this side, it was clear that the blueprint had been altered, and that a tiny room accessible only by an air vent had been obliterated.

"Nice. Maybe we'll even get lucky and grab Rahil at the same time."

Lara shook her head, shouldering her backpack and slipping her .45 into its holster. "I doubt Karel's that stupid."

Mere minutes later, weapons readied, they crouched in two alcoves opposite each other just outside the 'trap' room. Kurtis consulted the map and pointed silently to the grating above her head. As Lara cautiously stood and began to work on opening the entrance to the hidden room, Kurtis glanced up and down the empty corridor before joining her. So close to where their enemy expected them to be, they wasted no words, and communicated using a variety of gestures. Gaining access proved trickier than Lara had expected, and as she fiddled with the screws that fastened the grating to the wall, Kurtis' impatient sign language prompted the necessary use of one finger in an emphatic motion that needed no interpretation. Biting his lip to suppress laughter, Kurtis took the grating from her and hid it in the opposite alcove. By the time he turned around, her backside was disappearing into the vent, and he allowed himself one silent, appreciative moment to analyse it before following.

After a short crawl, Lara halted at the end of the vent, rising from her crouch to balance on one foot and one knee. The vent was just wide enough for her to be able to turn comfortably, and she glanced at Kurtis, who raised his eyebrows in a silent question. Quickly, Lara conveyed what she saw, holding up two fingers to mean two enemies, and gesturing hurriedly to convey their positions.

One stood unsuspecting just below the vent. As long as the other guy was facing the right way, it would be a simple matter to drop down behind him and break his neck. Of course, in such a small room, the scuffle would be heard, and the second guy would either attack or raise the alarm. Lara elected to use the stealthy approach. Once she left the vent, Kurtis would have a clean shot to use the Dart SS they'd found in their ransacking. No problem.

Carefully, Lara chose her moment. It seemed the two guards were not friends – they avoided one another's eyes and did not speak. That made her job harder in one way – they were utterly focused on their task. But at least when she slid down from the vent and crouched behind the guard nearest to her, they both assumed the rustle of cloth was made by the other's fidgeting.

_Now._ Recovering from her drop, Lara stood, seized the guard's head in both hands, and twisted violently. The guy barely had time to gasp before his neck was broken.

"Huh?" The syllable had scarcely fallen from the other enemy's lips when a dart flew swiftly and silently to its mark in his jugular. Eyes wide with astonished resignation, the stocky man dropped and lay without moving.

"Nice shot," Lara murmured as Kurtis landed behind her. He shrugged and moved past her, began to search draws and cupboards for their prize. Lara knew better. Her own home was riddled with secret hidey-holes, and she knew the marks of hidden cubbyholes when she saw them. Without another word, she crossed the room, which was furnished like a 19th century study with a desk and leather armchairs dotted around its cramped space, and stood on tiptoe to examine the huge, gilt-framed picture that hung over the fireplace. "Too obvious, really," she told the horse and rider that posed for the artist, "but then, it was a little more difficult than usual to get to." As she spoke, her hands found the secret catch she knew would be there, and she pulled the entire section of the wall, picture intact, open to reveal a space the length and width of the portrait. Sat in the centre, appearing ridiculously small, was the Box of Rosha. "Hallelujah," the tomb raider breathed wearily, checking for traps before drawing it out of its hiding place.

Kurtis reached out to take it from her, then hesitated as he remembered the results of the last time he'd tried it. Repressing her concerns with logic, Lara relinquished the box. After all, she was the one who'd lost it last time – and if Kurtis wasn't Kurtis, he wouldn't have let her get this close to it.

A tiny smile played about his lips as he examined it. Then, to her surprise, he handed it back. "No use you having that backpack and not making use of it." A flash of understanding passed between them, and Lara felt her skin tingle. Shrugging it off, she deposited the box into the bag and gestured to the vent.

"Let's get out of here."

* * *

Replacing the grating that had barred their entrance, Lara froze. _Footsteps; of course._ Sighing, she drew her gun. Kurtis' Chirugai hummed in his hand. 

Six men strolled down the hall – four were struck dead before they had time to register what was happening. Facing off against the two that remained, they were caught by surprise, and utterly outnumbered, by the ten or twelve lackeys who emerged from nowhere, Joachim Karel at their head. In desperation, Lara realised their only hope lay in bluffing. "I'll hold them off – you get the box!" she called to Kurtis.

Instantly catching her drift, Kurtis ran for the grating they had just replaced and began to fiddle with one of the screws. By the time he was ordered to freeze, the entrance was only half-open. _Fingers crossed…_ Lara shot him an overly-apologetic look, adding to their ruse, and he shrugged in return as they were frog-marched into the 'trap' room without even being searched.

"Always wanted to be tied up with you," he said ironically, as they were pushed into chairs set back to back, and their hands and legs were bound.

"You've seen way too many gangster movies." Lara ignored him to address their captor, who only smiled. "What now? You're going to bring out the sharp knives and flamethrowers?"

"The physical torture will come later. First, I have a special Nephilim party trick to show you." Karel took a seat in an armchair a short distance away and grinned inanely.

"Wonderful," Lara sighed. "But you're missing one important part of the jigsaw. Torture is for when you want information from someone."

"Unless you're a psychopath, in which case it's for fun," Kurtis added.

"Helpful, Kurtis…" Lara rolled her eyes.

"Psychopath." Contemplatively, Karel sat forward, regarding them with shining eyes. "Yes, I suppose I am, really. Who wants to go first?" Silence from both captives. "Eeny, meeny, mi–"

"Oh, spare me," Lara spat sarcastically, tossing her head to detract attention to the fact that she could – just barely – reach Kurtis' bonds. His fingertips curled round her own in silent encouragement, and she squeezed back before applying her nails to the difficult task ahead.

"You can go first." Karel turned his full attention to the tomb raider, who glared back. The green fire around the blonde monster's fingers flared into life, and then, all of a sudden, the room around them disappeared. Loathing the disorientation that this change brought, Lara stared around for Karel as a new and different place materialised – one that was altogether too familiar. Kurtis couldn't identify it, but heard her suck in a breath, felt her fingers against his freeze in recognition.

"What?" he asked softly. It didn't take a genius to work out that she was in some kind of emotional turmoil, and he longed to reach out and comfort her.

"Don't ask," was her curt reply. Kurtis had no choice but to watch and wait as a figure, gasping for breath, stumbled up stone steps towards sunlight – Lara herself.

"Son of a bitch," she muttered, eyes following her double's progress and hesitation as a second figure appeared at the top of the steps. "Don't you fucking dare!" she yelled, on the off-chance Karel could hear her. Of course, the scene continued to unfold.

"Quickly, girl! Before it collapses around you!" the anonymous figure entreated urgently in a thick German accent as the earth shook and rubble rained on Lara's head.

"You back, Werner?" Lara's double asked wearily, bracing herself against the wall for support. "No more Set?"

Where had he heard that name? Kurtis' eyes widened as he recalled their conversation weeks ago. _Karel__ killed my mentor. Werner was more of a father to me than my own father was. On top of that, he was my friend._ The Lux Veritatis warrior winced in comprehension as he studied this Lara, who was somewhat different to the woman he had fought beside. She seemed less hostile, more open… but perhaps that was because of the company she was keeping.

"No time!" Werner answered her question, beckoning urgently. "Your hand, Lara, give me your hand!" Before she could take action, and with a startled gasp, Lara plummeted as the floor gave way beneath her, leaving her dangling by her fingertips. Werner raced towards her as she held on grimly. "Take my hand; I can pull you to safety!"

Her grip was slipping, Kurtis could see. Feeling as tense as if it was really taking place, he watched with clenched fists as she gasped out, with a hint of resignation, "Good to see you again, Werner."

"I couldn't leave you!" He stretched out, straining to reach her hand as another almighty rumble shook the entire structure. Lara, desperation in her eyes, removed one hand from the stonework and reached up to him – and in the same split-second, the old man, made jumpy by the threat of collapse, turned his back and stumbled from the temple as it fell in. The watcher's point of view remained on Lara, who lost her grip and fell with a cry as the remaining sunlight was obliterated by falling rock. Blackness filled their vision. All Kurtis could hear was the shaken breathing of the real Lara.

The scene changed to the exterior of the tomb, a mound of rubble by this time. All was still… until a hand clawed its way out of the wreckage. Kurtis' heart twisted in sympathy as Lara, barely recognisable beneath torn clothing, a thick coating of dust and grime, and with bloody, torn fingertips and skin, dragged herself into the open air. For minutes, she lay stunned in the sunlight, gasping in precious lungfuls of oxygen, before freeing her legs from the stone around her. Barely giving herself time to rest, she began to crawl on hands and knees away from her prison, eventually finding the strength to get to her feet, and staggered off into the desert.

Once more, the scene changed. Lara, dragging one leg and with her arms wrapped protectively around her stomach, emerged from an endless sea of sand into… more sand. Clearly parched and exhausted, she fell to her knees and continued her journey at a crawl, acceptance towards her own death beginning to set in. She halted to catch her breath, and fell into a foetal position on the sand, eyes fluttering closed as she passed out. Footsteps sounded, and as the scene faded into black Kurtis caught sight of several anonymous figures wrapped in burnooses.

When the images returned, it was clear that some time had passed. Lara, riding a camel and wrapped in traditional dress herself, headed at full speed towards a settlement in the distance. Drawing closer, she leapt from the camel's back and sprinted across the sand, calling something in a language Kurtis did not recognise before reverting to English: "No, no, no, please, no…" Despite the frantic chant, as she made her way through the bodies that littered the ground, it was clear that she was too late. Lara sank to her knees in front of a woman who took laboured breaths, fighting for life, and began to quell the bleeding, but at the end of a short, quiet conversation in that strange language, Kurtis saw the stranger's eyes go blank and she exhaled for the last time.

Lara, for her part, sat silently amid the carnage for perhaps two minutes before she rose, murder in her eyes. Kicking her camel into life, she followed the tracks of the assassins to a nearby camp, and drew a fully automatic Uzi. Five minutes later, holstering the weapon, she left behind the same mess as had been left for her, face expressionless.

When this image dulled, the real world took its place. Joachim Karel rose from his chair, a rapt expression adorning his features, and crouched just out of range of Lara's bound feet, staring into her face. "Fascinating," he said, and appearing to truly mean it. Kurtis could not see her reaction, but Karel enlightened him, taking his seat once more. "She looks like a broken doll. Beautiful, but cracked. In fact–"

Before he could continue, a low voice interrupted him. "Leave the country, Karel. In fact, leave the planet, because I'm going to find a way to kill you, and then nowhere on this earth will hide you from me." Lara's voice was weary, but even, and tinged with menace. Kurtis mentally cheered at this show of her usual attitude, but Karel merely smirked.

"Reverting to clichés, Ms. Croft? Not like you at all."

"Sometimes the classics work the best." As the words snapped from her mouth, Kurtis felt his bonds loosen, and carefully tucked the rope into his back pocket before reaching out to work on Lara's restraints.

"My Lord Karel!" Frantically, the cult member who had healed their injuries came running into the room. "The box! The box is gone!" As he spoke, he shoved the doors closed behind him, locked them.

_Oh, great. Mr. Double Agent has no loyalty to either side._ While Karel was still off balance, Kurtis gathered all of his strength to finish the task he had been working on throughout Lara's flashback – to summon his Chirugai to him. His head ached fiercely, and he felt the warm trickle of a nosebleed, but the weapon burst through the wooden door of the cabinet it had been locked in, and flew to his side, severing his own leg bonds and Lara's before landing in his palm.

Lara was immediately on her feet, fury in her countenance. Karel was conjuring up his green fire once again, but the Chirugai, though not inflicting any permanent damage, was enough to make his concentration falter. At the door Mr. Double Agent had locked, they heard shouts as cult members tried to break through, and realised he had helped more than hindered them by barring this route of escape. But how would they get out, if not by the door? One glance at their mysterious aide gave them their answer.

Seething with desire for vengeance, Lara instead ran in the direction he pointed out, wistfully leaving behind her pistols. Behind the tapestry that hung on the wall… a lever! "Score," Kurtis muttered from behind her. Once flicked, the switch opened a panel in the wall, and they tore down it. A hundred feet into their escape, Kurtis called the Chirugai back to him. Between them, it was the only weapon they possessed, their guns having been taken from their holsters on their capture.

"Does this thing go anywhere except further underground?" Lara snarled to no one in particular, frustrated. Many pairs of boots could be heard in the distance, stampeding towards them, and as they turned a corner the first bullet bit into the wall beside them. As if in answer to her question, the tunnel began to slope upwards, taking them towards the surface.

The Chirugai occasionally decapitating the leading men in the pursuit, they continued for five minutes or so… and then hit a dead end. Biting back a torrent of expletives, Kurtis called his weapon to him, using the orange glow hat emanated from it to illuminate the walls, ceiling and floor. "There!" In a trice, Lara flipped the lever downwards, and above them, a ceiling panel slid to the side, revealing a patch of daylight.

"Freeze! Don't fucking move!" The plethora of guards had caught up with them at last, and stood scant feet away, guns all targeted straight at them. One last time, Kurtis sent the Chirugai in to do its destructive work, offering a step for Lara to reach the surface as he had done in the Strahov. The familiarity of the move made her smile, despite the circumstances, and landing on solid ground above, she held out her hand to pull him up after her. Without a moment's pause, they tore down the street above, barely noticing that they were in the temple district of a major city just before dusk…

* * *

**So, there we go. Lara's secret's out… and next we find out Kurtis'. After a rather sweet interlude in a temple. :) Now, do you hear the little purple button calling you?**


	13. Trials

**A/N:** Thank you for your lovely words, guys. :) I hope you'll like this one as much – something tells me you'll yell "out of character!" for this, but I think even Lara has the right to be emotionally drained sometimes, right?

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

"What now?" A good three miles from their escape route, Lara finally called a halt. The fact that it was outside a shop that clearly sold guns and other weapons was just an added bonus.

"For the next twelve hours, we lie low, in the place they'd least expect. If they get this box tonight, that's it. We're done."

"Whereas if we stick it out till dawn, we have a whole month to locate Rahil…" Lara nodded. "Good plan." They headed into the weapon store, and busied themselves with the task of becoming armed once more. Fifteen minutes later, carrying her usual twin pistols as well as a Desert Eagle, Lara emerged into the darkness outside and glanced across at Kurtis. She had managed to convince him of the relative merits of a Vector-R35, and he also carried a Scorpion X, but was clearly mourning the loss of his Boran X, a pistol of his own design.

"So, where will they least expect? Hotels are out. They'll search them all."

Kurtis shot her a grin. "The temple where they need to perform the ritual. The Nephilia Veritas."

Lara sucked in a breath. "That's risky, Kurtis. Very risky."

"I know. But isn't it genius?" Without waiting for her answer, he turned and walked back the way they had come. Shaking her head, Lara followed.

"If the world goes to hell, the human population can blame your ego…"

It was a tricky journey, and they dodged away from even harmless-looking old women, fearing Karel's shape-shifting abilities. Eventually, Lara tired of the game of chicken and scaled a drainpipe, sauntering through rooftop gardens with little fear of being spotted. Kurtis followed suit, careful to avoid being seen on his way up. Eventually, they dropped soundlessly in front of the temple and made their way inside.

Throwing down her backpack against a column out of sight of the entrance, Lara sat on the bag and leaned back against the support, eyes closed, arms wrapped around herself. Now that she could stop, let the adrenaline rush fade, the recollection of Karel's 'party trick' was catching up with her fast. She heard Kurtis settle himself nearby, and turned her face in the opposite direction, unable to keep a neutral face and unwilling to let him see her pain.

Minutes passed in silence as she waded through the memory once again, safe in the knowledge that no one could see her distress. Out of nowhere, she felt the light brush of fingertips against her cheek, and gasped, eyes flying open, muscles tensed to attack. Kurtis withdrew his fingers, but did not get up from the floor in front of her. How he had gotten there without alerting her to his presence she had no idea – she must have been deeper inside her thoughts than she'd realised. She turned away again, but his hand was back, this time under her chin, forcing her to look at him. "You okay?"

Lara shrugged, not trusting herself to speak. "Talk to me," he requested. She shook her head, and he drew back, dropping his gaze from hers. The mental walls she had worked so hard to construct suddenly grew and thickened, and it was if there were miles between them. Using all of her will, she overcame the barrier and caught his hand as he stood, pulling him back to the floor.

"I can't talk about it now. Give me a while." Her voice was quiet but did not crack. Kurtis nodded, concern clear in his face, and sat beside her, pulling her so that she leaned back not against the pillar, but against his chest. With a shaky sigh, Lara relaxed against him, head on his shoulder, and closed her eyes. The thoughts that had so disturbed her seemed farther away, and when his hand began to track slowly up and down her bare arm, she enjoyed the sensation, although she was too exhausted to respond to him. "Thank you," she whispered, grateful for more than just his acceptance of her silence.

"For what?" His voice held a far-away quality, and she imagined his eyes gazing into the distance, at everything and nothing. His body was warm through his shirt, perfect for chasing the slight chill of the night away.

She shrugged. "You figure it out." They sat in companionable silence, dozing and waking, rarely speaking, until the shadows were chased away with the first rays of daylight. Even then, Lara could not muster the energy to move. They waited until the first tourists entered the place with cameras at the ready, and then threaded their way through the temple district in search of accommodation.

* * *

By the time they had picked up replacement clothing for the outfits that were still, presumably, in Anatolia, Lara seemed to have recovered some of her usual poise. She even smiled a little as she stuck her head around the door that connected their rooms. "If any shape-shifting fiends show up, I'll be in the shower." They were checked into rooms at the nearest hotel, still playing to the theory that the closer they were to the danger zone, the less likely they were to be detected. 

Kurtis looked up from cleaning cult-blood from the blades of his Chirugai, damp, just washed hair falling into his eyes as usual, and nodded. "You okay?"

She shrugged. "I will be… after I get out of these." She gestured to her clothing, streaked with blood and grime. "Keep an eye on Binky, will you?" She tossed the Box of Rosha to land on the bed beside him, before disappearing back through to her room, the door between them still standing open.

Kurtis shook his head as he regarded the artefact. _Binky_ He did see her point. They protected this box as if it were a pet… or a child. _God forbid we start acting like a married couple over this thing…_

Some time passed before he saw Lara moving around in her suite, but she did not come through to sit with him. Whether she was keeping her distance as a result of _that_ argument, or just still feeling fragile, Kurtis wasn't sure, but he had a feeling bridges needed to be built either way. "Need a bedtime story?" he asked as she settled herself, a knife and whetstone in either hand, in the middle of her bed.

She looked up, smiled. "Does it start with, 'once there was a little boy named Kurtis'?" she asked, gesturing for him to take a seat.

"It can." He sat beside her, and she laid the knife down, forgotten, as her eyes fixed onto his face. Kurtis stared out across the room, preparing to let her know his secrets in return for those that had been unceremoniously exhibited for him. "The Lux Veritatis initiation trials are given at age sixteen, but I'd been working towards them since I was three. My father trained me for all those years, but I still wasn't prepared. There were wagers on whether I'd make it through alive. You could say I wasn't happy with the concept of destiny, so I resisted it all I could.

"There were three trials. Physical, mental and emotional, though I didn't realise that at the time. My mental was first. Probably the easiest. Lots of use of the Chirugai and the Farsee ability. Basically, it was a maze, and if I didn't take the right route, there was no chance I'd survive the traps. But I got through it okay. It was just concentration.

"Physical… was very tough." He gestured to the faint scar that streaked down his cheekbone. "I nearly didn't make it – if I'd passed out a few seconds earlier it would have got me."

"It?" Lara watched him intently, detecting a faint tinge of horror in his eyes. She shook her head. "You don't need to tell me this."

"But I might as well." Lara felt a surge of gratitude at his compassion. Somehow he knew how exposed she felt, and was attempting to heal the wound a little by taking on some of the pain himself. Instinctively, she reached out and took his hand. He didn't look at her, but his fingers laced through hers and squeezed.

He continued, "The first part of the test was a gauntlet of traps. Spikes, axes, fire, acid… you name it, it was there." He gestured vaguely. "Scars all over from that. I was cut up pretty badly by the time I got to the other side. All I could think was, 'thank god that's over'." His mouth curved in a bitter smile. "Turns out it wasn't. Think something three times as strong and three times as ugly as Boaz, with skewers all over it. I managed to turn one of the firetraps against it eventually, but it bit a good chunk out of my leg and got an artery before I figured it out. When I passed out, it was on fire, but still live and kicking."

Lara shuddered. "Doesn't sound like something to give you sweet dreams."

"Let's not go into the nightmares."

"And the emotional?" Lara asked. She sensed that this was by far the worst part of Kurtis' experience.

He sighed, ran a hand through his dark locks. "Visions of all my family, all my brethren in the order, dead and rotting." Lara winced in sympathy. Although he put it simply, his tone bore a hint of hopelessness as he continued, "What I didn't realise at the time was, they were premonitions. Now I think, was there something I could have done to stop it? I got the warning years in advance."

"You, age sixteen, versus the entire Cabal? Think about this logically." Lara's words were dismissive, but her voice was gentle.

Kurtis turned his eyes to her for the first time since he'd begun. "I know. But don't tell me you don't blame yourself for…" He trailed off to soften the accusation. Lara nodded, tightening her grip on his hand again.

"When I was nineteen, and they started getting picked off… I flipped. Left them all and joined the Foreign Legion. But they started sending monsters after me. The Cabal, I mean. These monsters would hit surrounding towns, and I knew they were after me, so it was my responsibility to do damage control. The people who saw it called me 'Demon Hunter'."

Lara smiled. "I can imagine. They called me 'El Hawa'. Desert Wind."

"Pretty name. Those camels go ninety miles an hour, then?" Lara just grinned, and he carried on, "I never went back home, never saw my father again. We'd write, occasionally. That was how I knew who was dead and who was next. When I left the Legion in ninety-six, the Cabal demons followed me, but I did less to stop them. I fell in with a bunch of bastards and killed people for money." He appeared calm, but Lara saw the shame in his eyes.

"From what I read, those people weren't exactly saints," she volunteered, attempting to soothe him a little.

"Most of them weren't." He paused. "Maybe I should make excuses for myself. Tell you I was seriously fucked up by this stage."

"I'd believe it."

"I won't bother. Whatever state of mind I was in, I was responsible for my own actions." Lara's respect for him upped a couple of notches at his words. He had the opportunity to try to convince her he had not knowingly committed acts that would be considered heinous, and he had rejected it in favour of honesty.

"Then what? How did you manage to slip through the Cabal's net?" She leaned forward, genuinely caught up in his tale.

"This was about a year and a half ago. I wasn't too far from the headquarters, on a hit I'd taken, but I wasn't planning on going home. Whatever happened, happened, and my brother saw it. God knows how he managed to escape that day, but he had heard rumours I was around and tracked me down. I wasn't too happy to see him, needless to say." He shifted a little, as though steeling himself for what he was about to say. "He told me the order had been reduced to six, not including me and him, and that everyone was hiding out together, trying to work out what to do. And… one of the demons came crashing in, started tearing everyone to shreds, and a man jumped off its back and went after my father and brother, who were running for their lives…"

"Karel?" Lara interjected softly.

"Or Eckhardt. It could have been either of them, but he was in Eckhardt's form if it was Karel. They got to my father's study, where he kept the Periapt Shards… my brother took two, my father the other. He wasn't very well trained, more into the research than the fighting, but Lyle – my brother – could just about use my Chirugai. My father kept it in his study, to remind him of me, I guess." He took a breath, forced himself on: "By the time Lyle had found the Chirugai, my father was dead. Lyle sent the Chirugai in once and cut him, and then tore off down the corridor. I guess he was just lucky that Eckhardt ran into his demon, and they got so confused about which way they were going that he managed to get out of there. He found me, gave me the two shards and my Chirugai… and then it came through the window, right behind him. Wasn't as lucky that time, and I was stood… right… _there."_

Bitterly, he slammed his fist into the mattress before finding his composure once again. Lara remained silent, not wanting to intrude on his memories or trigger an outburst of rage directed at the nearest target – her.

"Long story cut short, I killed it with one of the Shards. Started finding out everything I could about Eckhardt and the Cabal… went to Paris… ran into you." He glanced up. "There you have it – my life story."

* * *

**So… how's my interpretation of Kurtis' past:) More to the point… when was the last time Lara and Kurtis had any smoochies? I think we're overdue for some… :grin:**


	14. Exploration

**A/N**: Smoochies, as promised… but where would smoochies be without a discovery? Let's see what you think of this. :)

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

Lara crouched in the tiny alcove, praying it wouldn't hear her thumping heart or laboured breathing. Claws clicked on the hard tile of the floor as it advanced, and she knew it was coming towards her. _Bugger._ The Box of Rosha tightly held in one hand, feeling utterly helpless without a weapon, she considered her options. This time, Karel would not toy with her. Whatever he had dispatched to find the box, it would kill her first, ask questions later.

She had only one choice – flight. Lara straightened slowly, hoping she still held the element of surprise… and red eyes flashed towards her. A menacing growl emanated from the throat, and Lara ran, not bothering to stand her ground against a creature she couldn't fight.

She sprinted down the narrow corridor that seemed to go on forever, vaulting over fallen columns and pits of spikes. The beast in pursuit was gaining on her, she knew without looking back – she could practically feel its hot, rancid breath at her back.

She stumbled over the bodies of Werner, Margot Carvier, Luddick, and knew that this was a dream, and yet she was unable to extricate herself from its sticky tangles. Fighting a rising sense of horror, she continued to flee, helpless and hating it, until she reached the end of the corridor, and the final body – Kurtis, his once expressive eyes blank in death, blood seeping from grievous wounds in his neck, chest and abdomen.

She halted in shocked grief, mindless of the creature that was following her, and hardly caring when it leapt upon her and began to feed.

"_Fuck!_" Lara shot upright, clawing for her weapon, breath tearing from her throat in shredded gasps. The sight that greeted her was the calm quiet of the hotel room, its connecting door to Kurtis' suite still ajar, and she forced herself into composure as her eyes fell on his bed and his sleeping form.

Snapping on a lamp, she got up and paced the room with long, purposeful strides. The dream was not hard to interpret – concern for her ally had gotten her killed, as her inner fears dictated. She was feeling the strain of keeping the world safe, and still blamed herself for the death of innocents that stood between Karel and his goal. As time lapsed and the revulsion faded, she was able to sort her thoughts and dismiss her fears, but she continued to pace, turning her mind to the problem of Rahil's location.

"Don't think I've seen anyone pace that much before." Lara spun in surprise – she hadn't even realised he was awake. "Bad dreams?"

"Don't go thinking I'm a meek little girly-girl," Lara warned harshly, the residue of the nightmare strong enough to induce snappishness.

Kurtis held up his hands as if to show her he was unarmed, and retreated into his room, pulling the door shut behind him. The gesture was not lost on Lara, and she sighed, kicking herself for her defensiveness. Still, she wasn't about to go and beg for forgiveness.

Her eyes fell on the discarded blueprint of the underground complex, and on a whim, she picked it up. She'd heard it said that there was an underground city that lay under Cappadocia, but this didn't quite seem to tally with that theory. This seemed more like… one outbuilding of that city. _Where's the rest?_

The sun was just peeping over the horizon as Lara dressed in something she'd picked up as the seed of an idea had begun to take root in her head. The outfit, something resembling a burnoose, brought back bittersweet memories, but she shoved them aside and made sure that her face and hair were properly obscured. In a Muslim country such as this, no one would look twice at her, and she could do some detective work without fear of recognition by enemy agents.

Should she leave a note for Kurtis? If the roles were reversed, she'd be furious if she found he'd gone for a wander, taking Rosha with him. Quickly, she scribbled a few sentences. 'Gone to do a little reconnaissance. Stay put or they'll recognise you. Shouldn't be too long.'

The air was warm, but not too hot, when she began her exploration. Most businesses opened at dawn, before the scorching heat incapacitated the will of any tourists to shop. Lara picked up a map of the area and sat in the shade of a tree, examining it. Of course, there was no mention of a subterranean city, but she found it useful to know the layout and historical significance of the place.

Idly scanning the streets outside the temple district, she froze. _Oh, come on, Karel…_ she thought with disbelief. "You cocky bastard," she whispered aloud, barely able to believe her luck. Pocketing the map, she rose and made her way purposefully towards the building the plan had showed her.

* * *

Kurtis was fuming, his exasperation fuelled by intense fear. '_Stay put or they'll recognise you'? And I suppose you'll blend right in!_ She was going to die this time, logic dictated. She had the box, and she was far too dangerous to be allowed to escape again. Karel would take what he wanted, and then murder her in cold blood. 

The strange thing was, he still expected her to walk in the door.

_Ten minutes, and I'm going after her._ He envisioned her smile, her fluid movements as she walked, her steely-eyed determination, and hit the wall once again in frustration. _She could need my help. Screw it. I'm going now._ He had almost reached the door when it opened, and a figure swathed in traditional dress walked in as though she owned the place – or at least, had paid for it for a couple of days.

"Are you _insane_?" he exploded, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. "I thought you were _dead_!"

Lara shook him off and pushed past. "Don't do that again, or I'll kick your arse into next year," she warned over her shoulder, though her heart didn't seem to be in the threat.

"Do you even care that he could have killed you?" Kurtis dropped onto the bed, incredulity barely tempering his rage.

Lara pulled off part of her outfit, exposing her face. _She's grinning like a Cheshire cat! I'm going to fucking kill her myself!_ Speechless and outraged, Kurtis could only stare at her as she said casually, "Nice to know you care."

The adrenaline brought on by relief and anger surged out of control, and Kurtis lost control of himself completely, reaching out and crushing her to him, lips meeting hers in a hard, passionate kiss. They broke, and Lara pushed back from him, shaking her head and turning away. It had been their first kiss for four days – in fact, since they had almost given in to their desire altogether, and since their huge argument – but she shunned the contact, ignoring the electricity that coursed between them, and that wound him up even more. "I can not _believe_ you did that! I should kill you myself!"

"Oh, you're welcome to try." Her voice held an edge to it, hard and sharp, but there was also a breathlessness to it. He seized the implication that she was fighting her attraction to him, following her across the room and swinging her around to face him, pressing his lips back to hers viciously before she could retaliate. Her fingers closed over his shoulders hard enough to bruise as she responded equally fiercely, pressing herself closer as his arms encircled her waist, drawing her against his hard body. When they broke off, gasping for air, Lara swung her fist at his head, fury and need duelling for dominance on her face.

He had almost expected it, and blocked easily, pinning her arms to her sides and kissing her again until the resistance flooded out of her. This time, when he drew back, she made no move to get away. "I'm not going to do this," she told him, still defiant in voice even if her entire body had lost the fight to withstand his advances.

"No?" Kurtis shrugged, pulled back. "Okay." He had barely begun to move when she threw her arms around his neck, guiding his lips roughly back to hers. She remembered her feeling of utter desperation as Karel had taken Rosha from her out in the desert, and the chilling fear that they had gotten to Kurtis in her absence. She envisioned him, bloody and broken, in her dream, and held him tighter, affirming that he lived and breathed still. He stepped back to steady them, and his heel struck the bed, unbalancing him further and sending them toppling to the mattress, Lara atop him.

They froze that way, faces inches apart, desire and anticipation mirrored in one another's faces. Lara knew that the excuse she had been giving herself for her refusal to sleep with him had been forcibly taken from her, but with nothing but favourable results. Flashes of his body entwined with hers in the Anatolia hotel room, his warmth seeping through her in the temple where they'd spent the night, the notebook entries she'd replied to not-so-flippantly, all rushed through her mind. His face before her now searched her eyes, and she was acutely aware of everywhere their bodies touched, her entire weight pressing down on him.

Carefully, Lara extricated herself from the tangle of their arms and legs, backing off and shaking tendrils of hair out of her eyes. Her heart still pounded crazily even as the rush of emotion slowly faded, and she bit her lip to quell a smile despite the awkward tension in the room. She'd been worried, in the back of her mind, that she'd be unable to resist should Kurtis make a move. Now that it had happened, she was, ironically, relieved that she could still respond to him. Raising her eyes to his face, she saw the same twitch of illogical amusement, and relaxed a little. Maybe there was a tinge of regret in the corner of her brain that she hadn't leaned down to him and kissed him again, silently handed him the key to her heart… but that key was happy on its hook within her chest for now, especially since he'd been threatening to kill her not five minutes ago.

"That has to be one of the more unconventional murder attempts that's been waged on me." She broke the silence with quiet irony once she was calm enough to speak.

Some of the irritation returned to his expression, although it was mixed with veiled affection. "You deserve death by slow torture. What the hell were you thinking?"

Sighing, Lara moved to her knapsack, her shoulder brushing against his arm as she reached for it. _Back to business…_ "Would you have recognised me, in this?" she asked, picking up the head covering of the traditional outfit and waving it in his direction.

"If I was looking for you, yes. You have a certain attitude to you that's instantly recognisable."

"Why, thank you… Anyway, you're going to be happy with what I found out. I know where Rahil is. Though getting to it is going to be a completely different matter."

"What?" In disbelief, Kurtis took the blueprint of Karel's domain from her and studied it again. As before, all he could see were the abbreviations someone had added, 'St. Msma'. "Go on, then. Enlighten me."

Grinning, Lara passed over what looked like a standard tourist's map of the area, tapping her fingernail on one street corner. "Building of Saint Massima. Named after an obscure local saint, but used for corporate purposes. Highest security building in the entire city, or so the guy I talked to says."

Kurtis looked up. "Who?"

"Guess."

"Oh, you gotta be kidding me…"

Lara shrugged, passing over the digital camera she'd used to take shots of the exterior of the building. "Mr. Cult Judas himself. I nearly asked him the recipe for that medicine he had, but I have a feeling I don't want to know."

"And if he followed you back and then ran straight to Karel with our location?" Kurtis asked, exasperated.

"Believe me, he didn't. I walked through as many tourist crowds as possible and changed clothes at one point. Calm down."

Shaking his head, the handsome American studied the shots, which were all taken from different angles. The message conveyed by huge metal doors, barred windows and not even a scalable drainpipe in sight was plain. "Any bright ideas for getting into the Fortress of Doom?"

Lara chewed on her bottom lip, thoughtful. Slowly, she nodded. "Are you okay with me calling in some outside help for this?"

* * *

**Integration of another character, anyone?**


	15. The Murder Scene

**A/N**: Just pretend it was Bryce, not Zip, in Chronicles, okay? I just couldn't not include him… Oh, and I'm bumping the rating up from now on… no, not for THAT! Murder scenes should probably go under 'R', right…?

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

"You've reached Bryce's answering machine. If I don't pick up when you start talking, I'm either on a really hard level of Search And Destroy, or I'm having sex. Which is the least likely possibility of the two. So, um, start your message now." Lara snorted in good-natured amusement at the awkward recording and waited for the tinny beep.

"Bryce, it's Lara. Five seconds to pick up, or I go elsewhere. Five… four… thr–"

"_Lara?_" Bryce's Cockney inflection rang with incredulity. "How long's it been? Two years?"

Lara sighed, shifting uncomfortably with guilt. "Probably closer to three. I'm sorry."

"You did the Louvre without me! All those times I told you, 'Lara, we have to do the Louvre one day', and you didn't even call me!" He was hurt, she could tell, and remorse swept through her.

"How many times do I need to apologise to you today?" she snapped, covering it with annoyance. "I was wanted by the police at the time!" Softening her tone, she added with deadpan irony, "Anyway, it wasn't that hard. I just watched _Entrapment_ a couple of times before I went in, and I was fine."

"Yeah, well, I expect a full blow-by-blow next time I see you," Bryce conceded grumpily. "But I suppose this isn't a social call."

"Actually, we need your help. How soon can you get out here?"

"That depends on how much of my equipment you want. Where do you want to get into?"

"It's called the Building of Saint Massima," Lara explained. "I'd never heard of it before now."

"Bugger! It's only the highest security building in the whole of Cappadocia!" he confirmed excitedly. "You take me to the best places, you know…"

"Thank me later. For now, get over here with as much as you think you need. Take as much as you need from my expenses account to do it, but remember I said 'need', not 'want'. No driving up in a Ferrari."

"Right. And you'll be where you are now?" Lara imagined him checking the plethora of screens clustered in a semi-circle around him, tracing the phone connection, entering his first searches onto the Internet for the data he'd require, and smiled. She'd missed him, as she missed all of her friends. _If I get out of this Nephilim fiasco alive, I'm throwing a party for them all_, she vowed silently.

Aloud, she replied, "Yes. Oh, and don't acknowledge that you know me unless I come up to you wearing a bandage tied around my right wrist. I have an evil twin." Quickly, she filled him in. "So we're hiding out while we wait for you," she finished.

"Who's this 'we'?" Bryce asked curiously. Lara told him, and the Londoner exploded into laughter. "Lara's got a boyfriend, Lara's got a boyfriend!" he teased exuberantly. "It'll do you good to get laid."

"Don't be juvenile, Bryce," Lara rebuked, hating the warmth that spread into her cheeks, glancing at Kurtis from the corner of her eye. The American raised an eyebrow and returned to studying the map of the area. _He can't have that good hearing… can he?_ Lara decided not to worry about it, clarifying a few details from a highly entertained Bryce about their location and his time of arrival before hanging up.

"He'll be here by around seven tomorrow night, but it'll be a couple of days after that before we can get in," she informed Kurtis.

He sighed. "Okay. But I'm going crazy cooped up in here."

Lara nodded her empathy. Despite the fact that she'd been out and about not an hour earlier, she hated to be confined and was already feeling claustrophobic. Suddenly, an idea came to her. "It can't hurt to go and see that contact of your cousin's. Could you call and get the address again? What with being kidnapped, I don't have it."

Kurtis shot her a grin. "What was it you were saying about me losing it?"

Ten minutes later, Kurtis wearing a ridiculous wide-brimmed hat – under vigorous protest – for camouflage, and Lara still in her traditional gear, they made their way separately down Turkish streets towards the address they had been given. When Kurtis joined her in the narrow doorway of their destination, Lara tapped lightly to alert the people within to their presence. With an ominous creak, the door swung inward at her touch.

"This can't be good," Lara observed, unease colouring her tone. Kurtis' hand was already at his concealed weapon, and with a nod he signalled her to enter. "Amara? Amara Khayam?" Lara called softly, scanning the empty hall. From the doorway of the sitting room, Kurtis cursed in a tone that conveyed all she needed to know. Drawing her weapon in case a threat remained, she joined him and gazed sadly at the scene of destruction in front of them.

A young woman, surely not older than twenty-five, lay on the blood-soaked carpet, her entrails displayed around her like macabre artwork. Beside her prone form, a three year old girl sat, propped up against the sofa with her unseeing eyes trained on the ravaged woman. Mother and daughter were still and contemplative in death.

Shaking her head, Lara crouched by the bodies, her jaw tightening as she indicated the by-now familiar design of Karel's tattoo carved into flesh. "Three guesses."

"I don't suppose she has any written information." Lara glanced up, about to remark upon his callousness, but bit back the comment at the subtle compassion and sorrow in his expression.

"I'll check. You watch for Karel and company… he'll have the place staked out."

"How could he _know_?" Kurtis asked her as she headed for the kitchen.

Lara had no answer for that, and shrugged her shoulders without looking back. Conducting a speedy but methodical search, she located several books on the local area and its ancient history, and changed into a traditional outfit of a different design to foil possible spies. For Kurtis, she found a man's outfit tucked into a trunk full of mementoes – obviously the owner of these clothes had passed away some time ago. Lara felt a twinge of guilt taking the strangely western shirt and slacks, but if she had to desecrate a person's sentimental treasures – again – in order to save the world, then so be it.

Beneath the shirt lay a thin, paper-bound book, the language within handwritten in the symbols that were by now familiar to her. "Lux Veritatis," the tomb raider muttered incredulously, pocketing the booklet and heading for the stairs. "Kurtis?" she called. He appeared at the foot of the staircase, and she threw down the clothing she'd found. "Put these on, and then come up here. I think we'll have to take the complicated way out, just to be safe."

'The complicated way' turned out to be exiting through the bedroom window, inching their way across narrow ledges for three houses, and dropping to the alleyway at the end of the block. Unseen, they dissolved back into the throng of tourists and blissful anonymity.

* * *

**More?**


	16. Frank Conversation

**A/N**: Hi all… here's an update that should indicate what's to come in the next few chapters… hopefully when I post it it shouldn't be too predictable, though! Oh, and since have decided that chapters shouldn't be used solely for author's notes, I'm going to have to can the individual responses to your reviews… Just know I'm very, very grateful for every one I receive.

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

"I can't believe he didn't find these." Kurtis looked over the literature Lara had managed to pilfer from the scene of the crime and shook his head in incredulity.

Lara shrugged, reaching into her pocket. "Personally, I can't believe he didn't find this," she replied, letting the Lux Veritatis booklet drop to the bedcovers. Kurtis snatched it up, eyes widening, and began to leaf through it.

"Well, this explains why Karel targeted them," he murmured distractedly. Lara studied him, noting for the millionth time how good-looking he was and reproaching herself for even thinking it. His eyes flicked up from the page to meet hers directly, surprising her into dropping her gaze. Without giving any indication that he'd noticed her perusal, he continued, "Amara was married to a Lux Veritatis member, Munir Khayam, who was murdered in the final purge." He paused, no doubt lost in memories of his brother's tale of that day. "Their daughter was just beginning to exhibit the power," he continued softly. "I wasn't the only one left, until today. Amara was going through Stephanie, trying to find me, the only living initiate who'd be able to train her…" He trailed off, privately stricken. _Too late again._

Lara touched his shoulder in a brief gesture of comfort before returning to one of the ancient histories she'd found. "Oh, wonderful," she muttered, reading and re-reading a passage in disbelief. "You're going to love this."

Curiosity taking hold, Kurtis left behind his guilt for the time being. "Go on. Hit me."

Lara looked up, raising an eyebrow. "Don't tempt me." At his sarcastic look, she smiled and began to read. "At the reuniting of the two ancient spirits under the full moon, the last angel to be banished from this earth, the Screamer, shall be called forth once more. Under the command of the Lux Veritatis, it shall bring ruin to the Nephilim race, recalling the angelic essence within the hybrids back into itself and striking down the vessels in which the essence once resided." She paused, looked up. "Meaning if we get there first, Karel and any others won't stand a chance. That's the good news." She resumed reading. "However, if the Angel of Darkness is wielded by the Nephilim race, the angel shall make more of their kind, spreading the impure plague of human-angel hybrids with no other way of killing them but the Periapt Shards… In other words–"

"Mass orgy," Kurtis supplied uneasily. Lara nodded grimly, snapping the book shut and reaching for another. "The Screamer… the Black Angel…" Kurtis murmured, racking his brain. _Where did I hear that before?_

Lara looked up sharply. "Black Angel?"

Realisation snapped into Kurtis' mind. "It's what the sanitarium inmate called the Proto-Nephilim – the one you let out," he explained, too lost in thought to notice her irritation at his phrasing. "He called it the Black Angel, and the Screamer."

"Code names for the experiment?" Lara suggested.

"Probably… it's just all starting to fit."

"Would you have any idea how to command an angel to do your bidding?" Lara mused, mind turning back to the prophecy she had discovered.

Kurtis thought about it. "From the phrasing in the text, it'd have to be me, not you. I'm the one with the brain." Lara arched an eyebrow warningly. "Okay, with the mind tricks," he conceded.

"Then I'll keep the humans off your back while you deal with Karel and whatever others are around."

Kurtis looked over. "Do you think there _are_ others?"

The tomb raider turned a page and froze at the illustration that spanned a double-page spread. "Oh, I'd say there are," she answered slowly, dread creeping into her heart. "Look."

"Oh, shit." Kurtis stared at the sketch of a subterranean city street, filled not with houses but with architecturally stunning temples. Milling through the street were dozens of Nephilim, and the detail in the drawing made it clear that there was more than just one street down there. "Karel needs the Black Angel to break through the prison that holds them there."

"I could have been a brainless aristocrat who did nothing but stand around and look nice," Lara complained, taking the book back. "Why did I choose this?"

Kurtis rolled his eyes. "You can't wait to get down there."

"Sometimes I think I'm suicidal." Flicking through the surrounding pages, Lara halted. "This map is telling me the only way we can get into the city is through Karel's underground fortress."

"We're both suicidal."

* * *

"Pulling up outside… now."

"Blue van? I can see you," Lara confirmed into the phone, leaning out of the window. "Room 326 – just bring the essentials up now, and I'll give you a hand with the rest once I'm properly disguised."

"Gotcha. Two secs, then," Bryce answered. The connection cut, and Lara dropped the phone back onto the bed with a smile.

"Here we go…" she murmured, thankful for a new development. Since yesterday's disastrous mission to Amara's residence, neither she nor Kurtis had set foot outside the two rooms they were staying in, and had been driving each other up the wall with their mutual edginess. At one point this morning, she'd retreated into her suite and locked the connecting door, hurling angry words over her shoulder, just so she didn't have to watch him pace. Since she'd calmed down and snapped the lock back open, her co-conspirator had made no attempt to come back through – not that she cared, of course. As soon as he heard Bryce's voice, he'd relent – he was as bored as she was.

A knock at the door brought her back to the present. Checking the peephole to ascertain her safety, Lara smiled and opened the door, and a dishevelled young man staggered in, almost dropping a cardboard box on her foot. "Hi, Lara…" Bryce's eyes shot straight to her right wrist and the bandage she'd tied there, as arranged. From there, he grinned up at her – an expression that lasted almost three seconds before her appearance registered. "Bloody hell!"

"What?" Puzzled, Lara glanced over at the mirror – she looked the same as she had the last time she'd looked, and sported no injuries. "Bryce, what?" she asked again, impatient.

Slowly shaking his head, Bryce gave her a thorough once-over as the door to Kurtis' suite clicked open and the American lounged against the frame, Chirugai in hand.

"You're…" Bryce spared but a second to acknowledge Kurtis' presence before turning his attention back to his friend. "Thin."

Not usually one to take offence at insults, Lara was nevertheless taken aback by this. "And I was fat before?" she asked defensively.

Shaking his head vigorously, Bryce held up a hand as though to dissuade her from attacking. "No, I mean… you look starved. And tired. And you're wearing three times as much eyeliner as you used to," he added.

"Good to see you too," Lara replied, critically examining herself in the mirror. He was right about the eyeliner – not that that was a bad thing. "A lot has changed in three years."

"No kidding," Bryce commented, shooting a look at Kurtis. "Like you don't usually let G.I. Joe tag along."

Lara suppressed a smile with difficulty. "Bryce, Kurtis Trent, American bloke with a penchant for irritating the hell out of me. Kurtis, Bryce, my systems genius." Ignoring Kurtis' withering look, she continued. "How long before we can get going?"

Bryce began pulling wires and units out of his box and setting up a workstation in the corner. "This should take about an hour to get set up, with what I have in the van," he started absently. "Hacking into the Saint Massima security… about six, seven hours of bloody hard work. Recon from there, half an hour… that'd take us to dawn, worst case scenario. But I suppose you want to go in under cover of darkness."

"Plus a night of recon once we know our entry route. Day after tomorrow, at dusk, then." Lara exchanged glances with Kurtis, who still stood silently in the doorway. "Meanwhile, we need disguises. If Karel spots us, there's no hope – and you know he'll have the place under heavy surveillance."

Bryce cleared his throat. "I happened to drive past the place on my way up. The building next door is a Goth club."

"Oh, no," Kurtis objected, breaking his silence emphatically. The gleam in Lara's eye made him distinctly uneasy. "No eyeliner. No nail polish. No lipstick," he warned her.

"What, they're good enough for me, but not for you?" Lara replied innocently, though it was becoming increasingly difficult to remain deadpan. She was able to maintain the façade until Kurtis retreated in disgust to his suite, and then grinned in response to Bryce's snort of laughter. "Sometimes I just can't help it."

"I thought you'd go for it, so I found the first stage of your disguise for you." Bryce held out a box of black hair dye. "Should make it easier for you to move around under Nephilim scrutiny, anyway."

"Lovely. Need help?" the tomb raider asked, freeing a wire from where it had snagged on a headset.

"Nah… just let me do my thing," Bryce replied, attention firmly focused on his task. "You're bored. You'll screw it up," he added, smiling slightly. "Just keep me company. You and Blue Eyes through there don't seem to be getting on too well."

Lara sighed and headed into the bathroom with her hair dye, reaching over her shoulder to undo her braid. Turning on the sink faucets, she raised her voice a little to be heard over the water. "We have our moments. Mostly we just rub each other up the wrong way. Being stuck in a hotel room with him for days on end isn't helping."

"Um, Lara? Do you promise not to bruise me if I make this suggestion?" Bryce asked cautiously as his long-time friend shut off the water and lowered her brunette tresses into the washbasin.

"I'm not taking my head out of the sink for the next five minutes, so this would be a good time to say it," Lara answered distractedly.

"Just give him a good shag," Bryce recommended matter-of-factly. "You want it, he's desperate for it… I think it'd help. Y'know. Ease the tension." He jumped backwards as Lara threw up her head, soaking hair falling in her face.

"Bryce…" she began, finger raised in warning.

"I know, I know… don't start," he finished for her, retreating to his electrical equipment and resuming his pottering. Lara went back to massaging the black dye into her scalp, deep in thought. _The annoying thing is, he's probably right,_ she thought ruefully. She thought back to their disagreement that morning. Kurtis had been practically wearing tracks into the carpet with his pacing, and Lara had been sitting cross-legged on his bed, pretending to be immersed in one of the books she'd looked at a thousand times already. In truth, she was scrutinising him intently, noting the way the morning light fell through the window onto his face, catching the blue of his eyes and softening the impatience of his expression. He'd looked up, and their eyes had met with a startling intensity she had not expected – and she'd snapped at him. The conversation had disintegrated from there, culminating in her departure from his room. _I take that back,_ Lara reconsidered. _Bryce is definitely right._

_I hate it when that happens.

* * *

_

**:grin: Don'tcha just love Bryce?**


	17. Preparation

**A/N**: Hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas… Here's an update for you.

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

Kurtis lay on his bed, startled into amusement by the exchange he had just overheard. He had felt absurdly threatened by Bryce's presence to begin with – Lara's easy manner around the Brit could not have been any more of an opposite of her reaction to him today. But now he was beginning to like the guy, despite not even exchanging a word with him as yet.

All was quiet next door, apart from the splash of water and click of keys across a keyboard. Whether stunned into contemplation or just pissed off, Lara did not initiate conversation with her friend, and Bryce was probably too intimidated to strike up a new topic for the moment.

After minutes of infuriating peace, Lara spoke again. "There. I have to give this ten minutes and then wash it out." Kurtis heard movement, and then a noise that could only be Lara throwing herself onto her bed. "Bryce?"

A grunt, some clicks, and then a resounding "oh, _shit_!" in a broad Cockney inflection – followed by, "Oh, wait, no… it's okay. What?"

"Where did that little gem of advice come from earlier?" Dry cynicism coated her voice, but Kurtis wasn't fooled. _Chalk one up for 'stunned into contemplation'._

"I know you… you haven't been this googoo-eyed since Terry Sheridan."

A twinge of burning jealousy worked its way into Kurtis' chest, easing a little when Lara replied wearily, "Can we not mention him again? Ever?"

"You're the boss." A pause, and then, "But, come on… you've at least kissed him, yes?"

"None of your business." Kurtis grinned, imagining the wide-eyed innocence on Lara's face.

"I'll take that as a yes, then… Any good?"

"Subjectively, yes."

"You know, you can speak in sentences of many, many more words than that. What about objectively?" Bryce pressed, sounding exasperated.

"Objectively, it's been five, six years since I was involved with anyone. So maybe my memory isn't that good any more." Kurtis raised an eyebrow. _I'll stick with answer A for now._

"You have an elephant's memory. There's my answer." Another pause. "Six years… why the heck aren't you fucking his brains out?"

"Nice terminology. And the answer is because I'm busy saving the world again."

Bryce snorted. "Go wash that out of your hair and think of a better excuse. I'm going downstairs for another box."

Lara chuckled. "Okay. I don't have an excuse that'll satisfy your oh-so-logical brain. I'll see you in a few." The door clicked, and footsteps receded down the hall as the water began to run once more.

Lost in thought, Kurtis retreated into himself. It wasn't until the door between their rooms clicked open, and Lara entered, that he was brought back to the present. "Phase one complete," she told him amusedly, shaking tendrils of ebony hair around her face and shoulders.

The effect was dramatic and stunning, and Kurtis raised himself up onto his elbows for a better look despite himself. Before he could speak, Lara beat him to it. "I'll be going shopping for phase two in the morning. Are you in? Because if so, I need your measurements."

It was just too good an opportunity to pass up. "Whereas if I asked you yours, you'd kill me," he replied, not expecting much in the way of retaliation.

"Thirty-four D, twenty-four, thirty-five," she replied, leaning against the wall and raising an eyebrow in response to his similar expression. "Are you coming to get Rahil with me, or not?"

"You seriously think I'm going to let you claim all the glory for this one?" he replied, storing the newfound information away to analyse later. "I'm in, as long as I can fight in whatever I'm wearing." He gave her his measurements, which she scribbled down with a barely-concealed smile.

"Come and keep me company?" she asked, pocketing her paper and pen. "Bryce is barely speaking. It's gotten to that stage where the outside world doesn't exist, unless you're speaking in computer-geek."

* * *

"Bryce, it's three a.m. You can take a break from this, get some sleep, as long as you're in by dusk tomorrow – I mean, today." Lara suppressed a yawn. Illogically, her day of inactivity had served to make her more exhausted, not less, and she longed for a respite from the click of keys and muffled curses.

"I'll lose track. I need to do it all now. Just three more hours, Lah?" Bryce pleaded.

"Don't call me that." Lara sighed. "Okay, okay. Carry on."

"Take my bed," Kurtis offered from his perch on the windowsill. "You look like you're about to drop."

"You don't look so great yourself," Lara replied, fatigue rousing her irritation again. She caught it, and shook her head in surrender. "Thanks. I appreciate it." Pulling the door loosely to behind her, she curled up on one side of Kurtis' bed, burying her face in the pillow and inhaling his muted, masculine scent. _As bad as a bloody teenager_, she rebuked herself, smiling slightly, before slumber overtook her.

When she woke, what seemed like seconds later, she froze in surprise at the sensations of a hand resting lightly on her stomach and warm breath against the back of her neck. _Oh, I'll kill him,_ she thought automatically, ignoring the fact that she was slowly relaxing back against Kurtis' body and letting her eyes drift closed. She allowed herself long moments to luxuriate in his sleeping arms before extracting herself with care. Kurtis stirred, but did not wake, and Lara gazed at him for a long, indecisive moment before leaving the scene that confused her so, moving back into her own room and grinning suddenly. Bryce lay spread-eagled on top of her bed, fully clothed and snoring. A glance at the computers he had been manipulating for the last few hours confirmed that he was inside the system – and undetected. "Nice job, Bryce," Lara murmured, reaching for her traditional disguise and heading to the shower.

By the time she emerged again, her friend was back at work, and forced to double-take when he saw Lara's outfit. "Bloody hell! Change of religion?" he asked.

"If it helps me get to the Gothic clothing and back in one piece, why not?" she replied, tucking her braid inside her head covering. "See you in a few."

"Nice night, was it?" Bryce asked mischievously, inclining his head toward Kurtis' suite.

"If it was, I wasn't awake for it," Lara shot back, and pulled the door closed behind her. There were some things too fresh in her mind and too confounding to discuss.

* * *

"How'd you get caught up in the wonderful world of Lara Croft, anyway?" Kurtis asked Bryce, who was staring up at the ceiling, as bored as he was.

Bryce grinned. "Now, that's a story."

"Is that the Pentagon you're hacking into?" The hushed, incredulous female voice made Bryce jump guiltily, and he shut down his 96 complete browser with a pang of loss.

_"No. No hacking. I'm researching a course project," he answered nervously, knowing how transparent he sounded._

_Rule Number One: never try and hack into a system from your home computer. If you're detected, the police will be round faster than you can say, "oh, bugger!" That was why Bryce was sitting in the computer library of Oxford University for his latest project._

_He looked over at the woman next to him – and, oh, yes, she was definitely a woman. Her chocolate eyes gleamed with curiosity and intelligence, and he had a bad feeling that he wasn't going to be able to throw her off track too easily. Worth a try, though._

_"What're you doing, anyway?" He took a look at her monitor. It was filled with an article on Von Croy Industries, the huge company based in the US but run by German brothers, Werner and Viktor. Bryce had a huge amount of respect for their reputed security._

_"The point is, what are you doing hacking the Pentagon?" The woman refused to be deflected. "Are you a terrorist?"_

_That was funny. Bryce envisioned himself using his knowledge of dangerous information to blackmail the government and snorted with laughter. "God, no!" he replied, grinning. "Personal challenge." It was the truth – but would she believe him, or report him?_

_The striking woman seemed to size him up, eyes narrowing. Finally, she said, "How much would you charge to hack into VCI's security, and guide me through?"_

_The question caught him completely by surprise. "Are _you_ a terrorist?" he asked._

_"No. Werner von Croy has something of mine, and I want it back. I can pay you three thousand upfront, and another two when I get out unscathed. Do we have a deal?"_

_Bryce's mouth dropped open. "Five grand…!" he whispered, shellshocked. Suddenly afraid this woman would take her money elsewhere, he nodded vigorously. "Deal!"_

_Smiling slightly, she shut down her computer and stood up. "What's your name?" she asked, scribbling down contact details on a piece of paper._

_"Bryce. Bryce Johnson." He took the hand she offered him, and she shook it firmly._

_"I'm Lara Croft. Nice to meet you." Leaving the paper by his elbow, she strode out of the library._

"And that's how it started," Bryce finished. "I helped her through that one, and we stayed in touch." He looked over at Kurtis with a grin. "And no, she's never been remotely interested in me, so you can rest easy, mate."

Before he could reply, the door opened, and a distinctly different Lara walked in, slinging down shopping bags and kicking off boots. "Had to play musical costumes again," she explained, gesturing to the sixties hippy-garb she now wore, complete with a psychedelic scarf tied around her hair. "Luckily for me, someone wasn't watching their washing line."

"Let's see, then," Bryce encouraged. "I could use a laugh."

With a mock-scowl, Lara upended a bag onto the bed and began to pick through it. Black lipstick, nail polish and eye makeup were passed over with a grin. "I promise I won't attack you with this," she told Kurtis with a sidelong glance. Continuing to rummage, she found what she was looking for and tossed it all into his lap. "This, though, you will need."

Black leather pants. A black mesh top. _Bet she had a real laugh choosing these_, Kurtis thought resentfully. He bit his tongue to contain the opinion he longed to express, but one look at her oh-so-carefully blank face, and the amusement unsuccessfully masked in her eyes, broke his resolve. "One day, I'm going to pay you back for this."

Lara turned away, presumably to hide her mirth from him. Bryce grinned. "Trust me, if she had a mind to she could have done ten times worse. She had me wearing hotpants one time."

"You should see what _I'm_ going to be wearing," Lara put in, gathering her composure and picking up a third bag. Kurtis' attempt to snatch it failed as she yanked it out of reach. "Wait and see." She turned to Bryce. "Do we have an entrance route yet?"

"Bad news. There are dogs round the back, reinforced steel doors, and guards. Ain't no way you can get in that way." He referred back to a screen print he had taken and leaned forward. "There's only one other option, but it's risky, and you're going to have to get to it yourself."

"Go on." All business, Lara looked over his shoulder at the diagram in his hands. Kurtis joined her.

"If you could get to the second floor of the club, backstage, and find this window… there's a communications cable that should take your weight connecting the two buildings. The window in the Saint Massima building has no extra security, probably because it's thirty feet up and there's no way of even looking up at it from the ground without getting your ankles chewed off."

"Right." Lara nodded slowly. "I still want to take tonight as recon, just to see if there's any loopholes the system doesn't mention. But I think that'll do nicely."

* * *

**Hmmm… now, I wonder whether Lara and Kurtis' mysterious helper will make another appearance soon…?**


	18. Infiltration

**A/N:** Thanks for your feedback, all. Right, I've just had the most productive writing day of my life with this story, so I thought I'd slam you another chapter up… I'm really impatient to see what you think of what I've written today, but that's the prelude to the big Karel showdown in the next chapter, so until then, let's see how this fares…

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

_Kill me now…_ Kurtis walked into the room and halted in the doorway, barely able to check his stare. His mind was firmly swept from his chagrin at his own outfit, and fixed on Lara.

She wore a long, black leather skirt with slits in each side almost up to the waistband, so as not to hinder any combat moves she would have to perform. Above the waist, a black velvet and red satin corset accentuated her fantastic figure. A choker that looked as if it were made of black lace adorned her slender throat, and she was leaning into the mirror, showing a long expanse of leg whilst applying a final coat of black lipstick to her dramatic makeup.

In short, she looked stunning. Catching sight of him in the mirror, she froze halfway through blackening her lower lip and made no attempt to disguise her appraisal of him. Finally, she finished and turned around. "I must admit, I'm surprised. I didn't think you'd scrub up this well."

"If this is 'scrubbing up', what's that?" Kurtis gestured to her gothic finery, and she smiled, black-accentuated eyes gleaming.

"Is that your roundabout way of giving me a compliment, Mr. Trent?" she asked coquettishly, stepping up close to him. The temperature in the room seemed to rise by at least ten degrees as she laid her hand on his shoulder. The cloth he was wearing was so pitted with holes that he felt her skin warm against his own.

He was about to answer when Bryce leaned through the door. "Are you two ready?" he asked, before taking in their intimate stance. Muttering an apology, he ducked out again, fast – but the spell had been broken. Shaking her head in amusement, Lara crossed the room and picked up the black, coffin-shaped backpack she was substituting for her usual one for the evening.

"Let's go clubbing," she told him, flicking pony-tailed hair over her shoulder and striding towards the door.

* * *

"Reminds me of Le Serpent Rouge," Lara murmured as they neared the club, the name of which was unpronounceable to her.

Kurtis threw her a surprised look. "Did you ever go to that place?"

"As you well know, since you were eavesdropping in the corner of the Café Metro at the time," Lara retorted, drawing a grin from him. She shrugged. "At least the music's better here. The stuff they played there really started to grate on my nerves after a while."

As the guitar-heavy music from within grew louder, Lara caught Kurtis' hand in her own. "Believe me, you'll thank me for this. The more men I have swarming around me, the less I get done." _Plus it's an excuse to be close to you_, she mentally added, and shook herself irritably. "Bryce?" she asked the empty air. "Are you getting us okay?"

"Loud and clear," he affirmed through the earpieces they both wore. "And thanks for shelling out for these little fellas," he added to Lara, referring to the tiny cameras and microphones they wore on their clothing. "They work like a dream."

"Boys and their toys." Lara rolled her eyes. "We're going in. If you need a break for food or whatever, now's the time. As soon as we're across next door, I want youone hundred per centalert."

"Yes, ma'am," Bryce answered sarcastically. "Oh, by the way, I just did a search for this place on the web – apparently over half of the patrons are English-speaking tourists, so the language barrier shouldn't be too bad."

Kurtis looked across at her. "Ready?"

"Let's go."

Lara's flirtatious smile was key in getting them past the bouncers at the door without being searched – just as well, considering their heavy artillery. Once inside, they took up positions against the back wall, scanning the crowd. Their goal – the door leading backstage – lay up the flight of steps onto the stage, where a local, obscure band tuned up over the recorded music blasting from the speakers. Unfortunately, the steps were manned by a beefy bouncer.

"Any ideas?" Lara called to Kurtis, fighting to be heard over the music.

"As yet, not a one," he yelled back.

Lara grinned. "Go get yourself a drink – _not_ anything alcoholic. I'm going to get closer and see if I come up with anything." Before he could reply, she launched herself into the crowd, threading her way through the seething masses of people toward the stage.

"Bryce?" her voice came thoughtfully through his earpiece. "Do you know any of the local language at all?"

"Just the obscenities, why?"

"They'll do nicely. Do you know how to chat someone up in very vulgar terms?"

Kurtis shook his head in disbelief. "Lara, what're you doing?" He could see her in the distance, moving with the music and the crowds, occasionally extricating herself from bold males to continue her dancing alone.

"See the bouncer up there?" she replied. "He's eyeing me up. If I can get him to let me backstage, I can take care of him and you'll be clear to follow me."

"What do you want to say to him?" Bryce's amusement was clear.

"I'll try universal sign language first. Wish me luck, boys."

As she began to move through the crowd again, an ear-filling burst of static filled Kurtis' ear-piece, and Bryce faintly yelled a surprised curse. Discreetly, Kurtis dropped the ear-piece into his palm to give his ear some relief and glanced over at Lara, who seemed oblivious to the fault. Yet, even as he watched, a figure moved with purpose into her path and grabbed her arm. She reacted with her usual lightning-fast responses, but as she twisted his arm and pulled him back towards her to hide her aggressive actions, his lips moved in babble Kurtis could not decipher from this distance, and recognition hit he and Lara simultaneously.

It was their mysterious aide from Karel's fortress.

Fifty feet away, Lara released him, but kept on her guard. "You."

"Don't turn around, whatever you do," he entreated, casting nervous glances over her shoulder. "One of Karel's men is enjoying a night off, up on the balcony. When we've finished talking, lose yourself in the crowd and let down your hair before you go back to Kurtis. He's stupid enough to be fooled by the dye, but if he's watching me now, he'll watch you after we part."

"Talk," Lara ordered, manoeuvring him into dancing with her so as to appear as inconspicuous as possible. He moved into rhythm with her androgynously, which was a pleasant surprise – usually she had to firmly restrain her dancing partners' roving hands and pressing bodies.

"I know you're going in tonight – don't ask how," he interrupted himself to curb her question. "I thought you might find this useful." He handed her a security swipe card, which she examined critically for bugs or trackers before slipping it into her bag.

"Thank you. Now, answer me a question. Why are you helping us?"

He sighed, moving closer so that she could hear his muted tone. With no other option, she slid her arms around his neck and leaned in close as he began to speak. "Hundreds of years ago, my lover was seduced by Karel into the order. As infatuated as I was, I followed him there–"

Lara pulled back sharply as the word 'hundreds' registered, and stared at her informant with a new outlook. "What are you?" she interrupted harshly. "Nephilim?"

"God, no!" A look of disgust crept over normally bland features. "I'm… you could say there's no shadow without light. I'm the antithesis to a Nephilim – it's a long story, and as I understand it, you were wanting to go after the box tonight."

Relaxing a little, Lara motioned for him to continue. "When his plans were thwarted in Prague, my lover was by his bedside as he recovered his strength. As soon as his rage became stronger than his injuries, he took it out on the nearest living target. Since then, I have taken his place as 'number one devoted lackey' – and now that he trusts me I can move around under his nose structuring his downfall."

With eyes that gleamed with pained anger, he entreated Lara, "Avenge my dear one, Lara Croft. Do away with the Nephilim forever."

"I'll do my best," Lara promised, pity creeping into her mind for this broken being that stood before her. "What's your name?" she asked, feeling as if she ought to know it.

"They call me André, these days." He said it with a trace of irony stemming from something beyond her knowledge. "But that is inconsequential. One other thing you must know – the eclipse comes in four days. You need not wait for another full moon." Before Lara could reply, he faded back into the crowds as if he had never been there.

Digesting the information she had just been given, Lara began to make her way in a roundabout fashion back to where Kurtis stood. Half way through, as she pulled her hair loose, she became aware of both Bryce and Kurtis yelling her name through her earpiece. "What?" she asked.

"We only lost contact with you for the entire time you were with that guy!" Bryce huffed. "What the hell was that?"

"He's not human. He must have done something." Lara weaved her way back to the wall, and Kurtis' side, and he glared at her without speaking. Recalling her forced intimate stance with André, Lara bit back a smile at his wounded pride and feigned ignorance of it, instead leaning up against him and resting her head on his shoulder as she began to speak. If she had queried him on it, he would have said he embraced her in return because it would have looked strange otherwise, but Lara sensed he was pacified somewhat by her gesture. Pushing amusement to the back of her mind, she relayed the conversation to her friends, before shoving off the wall again. "I'm going to try for the bouncer again. As soon as he's out of position, Kurtis, get backstage." Without waiting for a reply, she headed back to the stage area.

A flick of her hair and a suggestive smile was all it took to encourage the bouncer from his post, and into Lara's arms. She gritted her teeth and told herself it was a necessary evil as he reached for her breasts, and complied with his wishes for a fleeting moment before making sure to twist out of reach with the next beat of the music. She threw a smirking Kurtis a disgusted look over the bouncer's shoulder as the Lux Veritatis member crept past and ran up the steps to the backstage door. No one seemed to notice.

As soon as the door shut behind him, Lara stepped backwards to avoid the guy's next advance, and pointed to herself, to him, and to the backstage door – it wasn't difficult to interpret for someone whose mind was as lust-fogged as his, obviously. Taking her hand with a filthy grin, he led Lara backstage… and lay unconscious on the floor a millisecond after they were obscured from the crowd's view.

"Ugh," she said emphatically to the empty air, gathering his dead weight in her arms and hauling him into a closet out of sight. Job done, she looked around for Kurtis, calling his name softly.

"Enjoy yourself?" he teased, stepping out of a room a little way down the corridor. The look he received in return was enough to elicit a chuckle from him.

"Right, now you've had your fun for the night, maybe it's time to do something a bit more challenging?" Bryce cut in over the airwaves.

"Second floor, here we come," Lara muttered, and took the lead up the staircase.

"Oh, Bryce, you have to be kidding." In disbelief, the duo examined the cable that led from the window ledge to their destination. "I doubt this would support my weight, let alone Kurtis'."

"If you have another solution, I'm all ears," the Londoner retorted. With a sigh, Lara took the Box of Rosha from her backpack and handed it to Kurtis.

"In case I fall," she explained, and stepped out onto the window ledge. A glance down warned her to exercise extreme caution – a guard and dog stood almost directly below, thirty feet down. Silently communicating this need to Kurtis, she took hold of the thin cable and tugged experimentally. _Here's hoping…_ Suppressing grunts of effort, she began to traverse the cable hand over hand, feeling ridiculously vulnerable. Behind her, Kurtis waited with weapon drawn, ready to gun down man and dog if they should notice her presence.

Lara's arms ached furiously, and she still had a third of the way to go. Feeling her grip slipping, she did the only thing she could think of – wrap her legs around the cable and release her hold with her arms. Hanging like a bat upside down, she flexed her fingers and tried not to think about the blood rushing to her head or the dizzying drop below. After a few seconds, she righted herself and continued on her way.

When her feet touched solid ground, she exhaled in relief, beckoning to Kurtis to throw Rosha over the gap to her. Catching it easily, she tucked it away and watched with trepidation as he took hold of the cable. "Come on…" she muttered under her breath, casting a critical eye over it.

For what seemed like an eternity, Kurtis hauled himself hand over hand along the barely visible support, his arm and chest muscles flexing with the effort. Lara kept an eye on the enemy far below him, just in case, but the majority of her attention was fixed on Kurtis and the cable. When she noticed the fixture that the cable was connected to was beginning to pull free of the wall, she bit her lip and gestured him on aggressively. _If he falls…_

With an audible twang, the fixture snapped free. "No!" Lara cried aloud, no longer caring about attracting attention.

"Oh, shit!" Bryce yelled in alarm, watching through the cameras fixed to their clothing.

Kurtis launched himself forwards in a last-ditch attempt to save himself, and caught the edge of the platform Lara stood upon with one desperate hand. Instantly, Lara offered a hand, pulling him onto safe ground and firing two shots to the skulls of the suspicious guard and dog below. When she turned around to check he was unhurt, Kurtis was staring at her. "What?" she asked warily.

"You're ghost-white," he replied, privately amazed that she was so concerned for his safety.

"It's the black make-up. It'd make anyone look pale," Lara replied shortly, willing her pounding heart to calm itself. "Bryce, is the window safe to open?"

* * *

**And in the next chapter… the boxes have quite a strange effect on Lara, and Karel decides to eliminate her once and for all…**


	19. Confession

**A/N**: I really don't know how this one will go down. But here goes…

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

"Lara, freeze." At the sound of her name, Lara halted instantly, guessing what the second word would be. Behind her, Kurtis shot a glance back down the corridor they had been traversing, wary of detection.

"What?" Lara murmured, hand at her holster.

"About three paces ahead of you, there are solid laser detectors from floor to shoulder-height, to the third door down," Bryce informed them.

"Splendid. I suppose it's lucky that there happens to be a pipe hanging from the ceiling, then. Anything else I should know about?"

"Only this little ray of hope – you're almost there. This corridor turns left, and the box is in the vault at the end."

"Vault?" Kurtis cut in. "How come you didn't mention this before?"

"I didn't want you to get faint-hearted," Bryce answered lamely. "Anyway, chop-chop. And Lara, mind your ponytail."

While Kurtis muttered under his breath, Lara gathered her hair, which she had braided out of the way as soon as it began to irritate her, and slipped her braid down the back of her corset. "I'll go first, if there's no objection?"

Sliding along the ceiling pipe, gripping with hands and feet, she was able to reach the other side easily, and dropped down to relative safety. Kurtis gathered his strength and began the task himself, praying that the bar would stand his weight this time. Carefully, he dropped to his feet next to Lara, and glanced over at her. "What?"

For no discernible reason, his companion was scowling furiously, fists balled at her sides, shoulders tense. She wouldn't meet his eyes, and shrugged him off when he touched her shoulder. "Can we get on with this? We're almost there."

Bryce began to speak, but the nagging puzzlement in Kurtis' mind suddenly dissolved into clarity, and he grinned. "Hold it a second."

"Oh, don't tell me this is in your legends too." Wearily, Lara leaned against the wall and shook her head, still avoiding his gaze.

"You could say that."

"What am I missing?" Bryce asked, bewildered.

"There's a whole legend about Rosha and Rahil – the warriors, not the boxes. In life, they were in love – would have died for each other, and so on. I'm guessing, since the personalities are intact in the life forces, that since they're in such close proximity to each other… and Lara's carrying one of them…"

Catching his drift, Bryce almost choked on his laughter. "How long since these ancient warriors have seen each other?" he gasped out, as Lara kicked the wall in frustration.

"Hundreds of years." Kurtis knew he should be concerned with the effect on Lara's concentration, but the though of her subject to Rosha's sexual desires was just too intriguing to pass up.

"Puts your five-or-six to shame, Lara!" Bryce cracked over the airwaves.

"Bryce, what am I paying you for?" the tomb raider snapped, wishing desperately that she could stalk off down the hall, but wary of the traps ahead. To have Kurtis near her was tempting at the best of times, but being in contact with a very horny life force was not helping at all. If he touched her again, she was going to scream… or worse, make a pass at him in high-security enemy territory.

"Okay, okay…" She could tell from his tone that he found her plight highly amusing, but could do nothing about it. "You're trap-free if you keep to the walls, but if you step down the centre you're dealing with fire, so I wouldn't, if I were you. Other than that, you're clear all the way to the vault." Wordlessly, Lara put her back to the left-hand wall and began to move, ignoring Kurtis as best she could. The sound of his footsteps behind her sent light shivers down her back, and she promised herself that when she got out of here, she would bang his and Bryce's heads together.

Seconds later, she stood in front of a thick, barred metal door with a swipe card reader next to it. "Just out of curiosity, Bryce," she said idly, retrieving the card André had given her from her backpack, "how would you have gotten us past this door if I hadn't been given clearance?"

"It's a secret." Lara shook her head and put the card to use, holding her breath and sending silent thanks to André when the door swept open. The three guards playing cards around a small table within were dead before they registered who had entered.

"Traps, Bryce?"

"Not a one. Guess Karel didn't think you could get this far," Bryce answered with a touch of pride. "The box should be dead ahead."

"And it is." Kurtis strode over to the plinth at the back of the room and picked up the elusive object that was their goal – the Box of Rahil. Just as abruptly, he dropped it as if it were on fire, and Lara lapsed into a coughing fit that sounded suspiciously like laughter.

"Problem?" Clearly, he had had the same experience as she did. Careful not to touch him, Lara deposited Rosha next to the newfound Rahil and sighed relief when her emotional rollercoaster halted. "Bryce, how do we get out? The way we came in? The cable snapped, remember?"

"I know. I'm working on it. Let's just start back the way we came, okay, kids?"

Lara exchanged a glance with Kurtis. "If these two don't cancel each other out when I pick them both up, you're taking one," she informed him.

"Oh, god… you'll both be away with the fairies," Bryce groaned melodramatically.

"Shut up, Bryce," two voices shot back.

Gingerly, Lara suspended a hand over each box, and steeled herself for the consequences. _One, two, three…_ She closed her fingers around each box and gasped as the feelings rushed back threefold. Using the last of her presence of mind, she shoved away from the offending objects on unsteady legs. "Fuck _me_!" she gasped, before realising the significance of the curse and biting her lip.

Bryce was in hysterics, but Kurtis wasn't laughing any more. When she glanced over at him, he broke off his scrutiny of her abruptly, and she sensed his response to her exclamation, if he chose to speak, would be "Don't tempt me." The residues of the boxes' influence were still strong enough to make that a reasonable proposition, and Lara hated it.

"Take Rahil," she told him quietly, eyes averted, picking up Rosha again and dropping it into her backpack. "Bryce, let's get out of here."

* * *

"And unless you have company, you're clear to the door." Lara drew her Desert Eagle – she hadn't come all this way, endured this infuriating sensation for so long, to be gunned down by a semi-alert guard on her way out the door. Aided by Kurtis' Chirugai, three enemies fell, and another four were annihilated by rapidly fired bullets. Lara shouldered open the door, and stepped cautiously into the side alley that they had hung suspended over just an hour before. Kicking aside the bodies of the guard and dog Lara had felled earlier, Kurtis took the lead as the door, able to be opened by the inside only, slammed shut behind them. A few deft movements with a pair of wire-cutters later, they stepped out into the street.

"Mission accomplished, Bryce."

"Don't be so sure," a dry voice commented.

Lara's heart sank. Beside her, Kurtis gritted his teeth at the sound of Joachim Karel's voice, and muttered, "Just run. Don't look back." As one, they moved into a sprint, surprised and suspicious when no footsteps pounded after them.

"This has to be a trap," Lara gasped as they passed without a sign of pursuit into the temple district. "He'll have a workforce of fifty waiting for us somewhere – all he has to do is steer us into them. Double back."

"Are you crazy?" Kurtis shot back.

"Possibly. But this seems too clean and easy for me." Not slowing in the slightest, Lara shrugged her backpack off her shoulder and extracted Rosha. "Take it. I don't care what effect it has. Take it and get out of here, call me in a couple of days with your location." Before he could protest, she had pressed the box into his palm. Strangely, the tickle of desire that had been bothering them both since locating Rahil was instantly nullified, almost as if the boxes themselves realised the importance of the need to think clearly. "Bryce," Lara continued, "Pack up and leave. My credit card's in my bedside drawer, I think if you tip them a couple of hundred they'll turn a blind eye to the fact that you're not me. I don't know whether you want to go back home, or meet up with Kurtis somewhere… that's for the two of you to work out."

Bryce, who had been waiting, every muscle tense, to see what he could do to help, agreed. "But Lara, from what you've told me, he can crush you like an ant. The fucker doesn't _die_, Lara. You can't stay and face him alone. It's suicide."

"Watch me." She pulled her earpiece out and tucked it into her pocket to quash further objections, and turned her eyes back to Kurtis. "Go." The word was a quiet, firm command, reinforced by her resolute expression and eyes that pleaded with him to understand.

"I can't. Bryce is right – it _is_ suicide. I'm not leaving you here to die."

Using impatience to mask her growing emotional turmoil, Lara sighed. "You're the only Lux Veritatis warrior left, the only one who can control the Black Angel when it's released. To the world, I'm expendable. You're the one they need to save the day. I'll buy you the time you need to escape – and if you argue with me for one more second," she added, her tone growing hard, "there's no point in me laying down my life, because he's coming closer, and he'll get you too."

Kurtis knew she was right, but still he hesitated. Words failed him, and in desperation he crushed her to him, finding her lips and kissing her deeply. She responded with equal fervour, knowing within her heart this would be the last chance she would get to hold him, accepting her impending death. The kiss was too brief; she broke it hours before she wanted to. Opening her eyes, she gazed into the intense blue depths of Kurtis' for a long moment. The expression in them took her breath away – bitter resignation mingled with grief, and something powerful she had never seen at such magnitude.

"Go," she whispered helplessly, sorrow coursing through her bloodstream, cancelling out the adrenaline she would need for the battle. "Good luck."

When he spoke, his voice was tinged with inexplicable anger. "I love you, Lara Croft."

A jolt of shock left Lara breathless, speechless. By the time she had the words to respond, he had turned on his heel and begun his reluctant flight from the battlefield. As she watched, he approached the boundaries of the temple district – just as a wall of green fire began to rise up from the ground to block him in. Kurtis saw it, and sprinted towards it, hoping to reach it before it became too tall to leap over. He only just made it; as it was it caught his trailing leg and he fell to the ground on the other side, mildly burned. "Get out of here," Lara breathed, willing him to get up. Favouring his good leg, Kurtis hauled himself to his feet again and jogged into the distance. As he reached the corner, he hesitated, as if debating whether or not to look back, but disappeared around the bend without a backward glance.

Letting out a sigh of relief, yet mourning for a love that never would be, Lara turned to face her doom.

* * *

**Don't kill me… it's only a cliffie… ;)**


	20. Hunted

**A/N**: Here I am again… Thanks for the wonderful reviews, you guys… though after all the poking and bashing I'm surprised I'm still alive! grin

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

Kurtis ran through alleys and side-streets, possessing just enough presence of mind to take a roundabout route back to the hotel to evade possible spies. Not that it really mattered. He'd be able to overpower human enemies with his weapons – he'd left the real foe back in the temple district with the woman who would soon lay down her life for his cause. Self-loathing and choking guilt numbed the pain in his wounded leg, and he grieved for a life not yet lost with tearless sobs of mental agony.

_To the world, I'm expendable._ Maybe to the world, she was. But she had become a vital part of Kurtis' life, and he had just left her there to die. He understood she was right, but this fact did nothing to kill the pain of what he saw as an act of betrayal.

He wasn't sure when his powerful feelings of attraction to her had become love, but there was no question in his mind that he had fallen hard. She possessed a mix of qualities that drew him like a moth to a flame, and at some point he had realised she meant as much to him as their purpose in Cappadocia. Her face floated unbidden into his mind, the way it looked the last time he had seen it. The determination in her dark eyes had given way to thunderstruck wonder, and despite her upcoming plight, her full lips had curved into the barest of smiles. As Kurtis realised she returned his love, he suddenly didn't want to know, didn't want to hear her say it, not when there was no hope for it. He had turned away, and denied himself one last look at her before moving out of sight, knowing that he would not be able to leave her.

Slamming the door to the hotel room behind him, Kurtis leaned against it and closed his eyes.

"Kurtis, mate…" Bryce trailed off. There were no words.

In the silence that pervaded the room, a new sound made itself known. Lara's voice, tinny but recognisable. "Oh, for god's sake, can we get this over with?"

"She still has the microphone on in her pocket, and her camera switched on," Bryce said, voice heavy, not taking his eyes from the computer monitor. He looked up at Kurtis, eyes pleading for the restoration of hope. "Does she have even a tiny chance?"

Kurtis joined him, watching the shaky image of Joachim Karel onscreen. "I doubt it," he answered as his mind became increasingly numb to bar the agonising emotions that washed over him at the sound of Lara's voice. "When he was toying with us, he pretty much didn't care if we escaped. I guess his logic was that he could kill us whenever he wanted. When he captured us, he didn't intend for us to get out alive. He didn't think we could evade him, and when we did, he knew we were more dangerous than he'd reckoned. His goal is the boxes now. He's had his fun."

Bryce was silent. On the monitor, Karel's lips moved, although the words were too faint for the communication equipment to pick up. Lara's response, though, was crystal clear. "Kurtis? I don't know, and I don't care. He decided to save his own arse, and left me here. With both of the boxes, I might add, so when the world ends I hope he's the first to die."

Although it was obvious that the entire statement was part of her ruse, the words were so close to the thoughts running through Kurtis' mind that a fresh wave of pain rolled over him. He reached for the first aid kit to distract himself, cleaning and bandaging his wounded leg, but the action was nowhere near as absorbing as he would have liked.

"Hand them over and you'll spare my life? I'm sure you'll forgive me if I express a little doubt there." A pause. "If you want them, come and get them. Let's play Hide and Seek. You have to count to a hundred–" A gasp cut off the rest of the sarcastic retort as Lara dived to the side, presumably to avoid a bolt of green fire. "That's a shame," she muttered, as the monitor showed the pavement, and then Karel again as she got to her feet. "I always win at that game." The image of Karel was replaced by the empty street, and it became clear that she was running in the opposite direction, weaving around corners, trying to lose him in order to buy herself – and Kurtis – some extra time.

Reminded of the reason for her sacrifice, Kurtis got up. "Shut this off, pack up. She wants us as far away as possible before he comes after us."

* * *

Sprinting away from her foe, yet hemmed in on all four sides by the wall of green fire that limited her to the temple district, Lara racked her brain for a means of wounding her immortal enemy. She scooped up a burning torch placed in front of a temple for the commercial effect on the tourists as she passed, and prayed it would not begin to rain. _If only there was flammable liquid of some sort nearby… how much pain would he have to be in to make the barrier drop long enough for me to get away?_ She harboured no illusions that she would emerge from this battle victorious, but as long as Karel wasted precious time hunting her and the boxes he thought she possessed before he realised the truth, her mission would be accomplished.

As she halted behind a pillar, hoping for a brief rest, she contemplated her own mortality. "Lara!" Karel barked in the distance, voice ugly and losing the smooth edge it usually held. "You do realise that I can just send fire through this whole area, and wherever you are, you'll be burnt to a crisp?"

That wouldn't do at all. Though she was almost certain the Nephilim was bluffing, she didn't want to take the chance, for Kurtis' sake more than her own. Though it didn't stop her scheming up possible escape routes, she was pretty sure she was dead at the end of this. The important detail was how long she had left to live before Kurtis was endangered again.

Climbing to a temple roof via handholds worn away by centuries of wear and tear, flaming torch held by the handle in her teeth, Lara crouched, surveying the ground below. Unfortunately, though she was higher than Karel's walls of fire, it was too far of a leap in terms of horizontal distance, though she would survive the fall with no more than a twisted ankle. _Bugger.__ Where is he, the son of a bitch?_ A scuffle behind her made her blood run cold, and her shoulders slumped with weary acceptance. _I forgot he could fly. Idiot, Lara!_

In a last-ditch attempt to slow him down before the death she was sure was inevitable, she spun, torch held aloft, and jabbed it full-force into Karel's gut as he swooped towards her. He screamed with the pain, and dropped from flight, but his momentum knocked them both off the roof.

Kurtis' half-smile at the forefront of her mind, Lara steeled herself for pain, broken bones, even death. The impact was as agonising as she had expected, and she was sure she heard a rib crack, but luck saved her from oblivion for now. Hauling herself to her feet, Lara realised she had fallen to the pavement with Karel partially beneath her, cushioning her landing a little. She didn't wait for him to get up, but instead took off as fast as she could, limping and breathless. A cough racked her body, and she tasted the metallic tang of blood on her tongue. _Internal bleeding.__ Wonderful. It couldn't be instant death, could it?_ she thought bitterly.

_Instead, I'm going to be hunted down like an injured, rabid dog.

* * *

_

Bryce's ageing rental van broke the speed limit easily, despite its condition. Kurtis drove recklessly, confident of his ability, away from the city that held so many painful memories. Unfortunately, the memories could travel just as fast as he did. The desert roads at two in the morning all looked the same, with nothing to hold his interest. By the time they were a hundred miles from Cappadocia, fatigue had caught up with him, although sleep would elude him for hours to come. He pulled over, still in the middle of nowhere, and shut off the engine.

"We'll stay here for now. It's as good a place as any."

Bryce nodded and powered up his laptop. Kurtis had no idea how such a linkup was possible in a remote area like this, and Bryce refused to elaborate – "It's just a prototype I'm working on" – but soon he was re-connected to Lara's camera and microphone. "Oh, Lara," the Londoner whispered, paling considerably.

Kurtis didn't think he could bear to look, but forced himself to open his eyes. There, onscreen, was a view of the night sky, marred only by splashes of crimson liquid on the minute lens. Nothing moved.

The flimsy wall of denial the Lux Veritatis warrior had constructed in his mind shook and crumbled, but still held firm. "Isn't it possible that she's just dropped the camera somewhere, that she's bleeding but still alive?" he asked, unable to tear his eyes from the blood that blotted out the stars.

Bryce could not bring himself to answer, his eyes also fixed on the bloodstains. Minutes passed in silent mourning for a woman they both held dear in differing ways, until a small measure of awareness returned to Bryce's brain. "Hang on… shouldn't we be able to hear normal night-noises through the mic?"

Kurtis ignored him, lost in his own thoughts until, all of a sudden, sounds filtered through the silence. "The sound settings were disabled!" Bryce revealed incredulously. "She _has_ lost her camera! She's still alive!"

He set the volume as high as it would go, and both men sat there listening to the ragged breathing, punctuated by gasping coughs every now and then, that emanated from the tiny speakers. It was clear that, although she still lived, Lara's prognosis was not good.

* * *

**What was that? I'm supposed to tie up a huge battle in one chapter? Yeah, right. :snort: Now, click the button and I may update faster than if you don't. :p**


	21. Hysterics

**A/N**: Sorry this is short, guys… writer's block. The scene after this one is incomplete and I only have a few more after that.

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

_What time is it? How long have I been here?_ Fighting the growing numbness in her limbs, Lara stumbled down the same street for the fourth time, knowing that Karel was somewhere close, and that she had to keep away for a little longer. Another cough shook her body in spasms, and when she withdrew her hand from her lips, her fingertips were bright with blood. Despite all of her efforts to seriously wound the Nephilim, she knew she had not succeeded in incapacitating him, and that she had maybe a few minutes before she would drop into unconsciousness.

In addition to the cracked ribs and internal bleeding, she also sported a small burn from her own attempts to cremate Karel, a freely-bleeding slash down her right thigh when he had managed to hurl her own knife at her from a distance, and several, larger, burns incurred when Karel managed to hit her with his green fire. Every joint and muscle ached, and her desperation was limitless, but still she refused to cry.

_If I'm going down, at least I made the bastard bleed._ She had no ammunition left – although she knew it was futile she had expended it all on the Nephilim, who just kept coming. The only good thing was, he was no longer smirking. She sensed he had been hurt at some point, though of course it wasn't enough to stop him.

Now she was on the run for her life, all her strategies having met with failure. She stayed within sight of the green wall of fire at all times, in the pathetic hope that it would disappear for some reason. She knew her number was up – every time she attempted to hide for a while, her coughing gave her away. _Why prolong it any more? I at least want to see his face when he figures out I don't have the boxes…_

Decision made, she stopped running, dropping to the ground and stretching out, staring into the night sky as she waited for Karel to find her.

It took only a minute. As she drifted on the edge of unconsciousness, he appeared in her field of vision, mocking smile back in place. "Well, well. The infamous tomb raider seems to be giving up the ghost."

Lara smiled, a tide of warmth threatening to sweep her away. "But not in vain." With an effort, she raised herself up onto her elbows and looked him full in the face. "Search me, if you like. You won't find a trace of Rosha or Rahil. What you have to ask now is, have I hidden them somewhere in your little playground, or did I give them both to Kurtis and play decoy while he got away?"

Far from wiping the smile from his face, this elicited a chuckle from Karel. "You underestimate me, Ms. Croft. Do you honestly think I didn't prepare for the eventuality that one of you would get away? Your boyfriend is being followed by my most trusted advisor as we speak, and if you've hidden them somewhere here, I have a whole cult to comb the area. Sooner or later, we will find the boxes."

His face twisted into an ugly grimace. "Whereas you'll just be dead." A foot lashed out viciously, and Lara grunted with the pain to her cracked ribs as she took the blow full-force. Once more, a coughing fit wracked her body as she lay, exhausted and in despair. _Please be careful, Kurtis_, she thought drowsily as she began to pass out again.

The next thing she knew, someone was calling her name. "Fuck off, Karel," she mumbled. "Just let me die."

"Drink this," a nondescript voice ordered. "Drink it, or you _will_ die."

Lara turned her head from the proffered drink, waiting for oblivion to claim her once more. She no longer cared what happened to her; she just wanted the pain to stop.

Suddenly, forcibly, a hand grabbed her hair and pulled her head up from the ground. Cool liquid spilled down her throat before she could protest again, and within seconds her weakness and pain had receded. "What…?" Lara asked, looking up and staring into the grey eyes of someone she knew. "André?"

"How do you feel?" he answered, looking her over.

"Fine," she answered, struggling to her feet. "Karel?"

With the ghost of a smile, André motioned to a figure hanging suspended in the air a few feet away. Lara stepped closer in wonder. Karel's eyes were closed, and he seemed more pale than usual, if that were possible. Something nagged at Lara's memory. "He looks… he's in exactly the same position as the Sleeper," she marvelled, "only without the chains. Did you do this?"

"Please, don't ask how," André replied. "I'm not exactly sure myself. But he'll hold for only another hour or so, so we need to get moving."

Lara nodded, and they set off out of the temple district. The tomb raider's brain turned to the next most important matter. "He said he'd sent his most trusted advisor after Kurtis. We have to find him."

"Calm down. The restorative may have healed you, but it'll still take a while to regenerate you properly. Who do you think it Karel's most trusted advisor? I followed him until I saw where he stopped, then I came straight back here. I'll take you to them." He motioned Lara into the passenger seat of a Jeep parked just outside the temple district, and got into the driver's seat.

Suddenly, everything became too much for Lara. Leaning back into the seat as André pulled away, she began to laugh. Her companion shot her a worried look, which only made her laugh all the harder. Soon her gut ached with the strain, but she still could not stop.

"You're hysterical," André warned her. "If you don't stop soon, I'm going to have to slap you."

"Oh, don't, please," Lara gasped between giggles. "If I don't laugh, I think I'm going to cry, and I really don't want to smudge my mascara." She glimpsed her own face, coated with dust and blood, in the wing mirror, and cracked up again.

By the time she had herself under control, they were leaving Cappadocia behind. Lara closed her eyes and shook her head. "How did I get out of there alive?" The question was more rhetorical than serious – she knew how, but she still couldn't quite believe it. She knew only one thing – she owed André a huge debt. "André? Thank you." The words seemed tiny and insignificant, but he smiled.

"No problem. It's as much for my own ends as yours, after all. I truly believe that without you, Kurtis would have no chance of success, just as you couldn't do it without him."

Lara shrugged. "Still, if there's ever anything you need…"

André chuckled. "Does that mean I can ask for your firstborn child?"

"Ask away, since I don't plan on having any children – not now, not ever. I can barely take care of myself, let alone anyone else."

André raised an eyebrow. "I doubt Kurtis would share that viewpoint. I was standing in the shadows at the time. I couldn't have bound our dear Joachim at that point – it takes preparation – but I was there, and I saw what you did."

Lara turned her head to gave out of the window at the darkened countryside. Her new friend's words forced her mind out of its horrified rut – replaying over and over the ineffectual battle – and back to her last conversation with Kurtis. _I love you, Lara Croft._ It had been a sincere admission, one he wouldn't have admitted to had she not faced what looked like certain death. Lara herself liked to think she was hardened enough not to be moved by it, but the truth was, she loved him just as much.

The fact infuriated her – she recalled their many arguments and realised that all along, she had been fighting for control over her emotions. _I suppose I'm going to have to get in touch with my inner sap_, she thought ironically. The thought of herself accepting flowers and chocolates from Kurtis with a smile and a kiss made her cringe. _Good god, no. Never. If he gets conventional on me, he's out the door._

Her inner monologue continued as André steered the Jeep down road after road, each appearing the same as the last. After a while, he looked over at her. "We're about five minutes away."

Lara nodded, not sure whether to feel anticipation or apprehension. She settled for nonchalance as a familiar blue van came into view. "André, where's the nearest shower?" she asked, shaking her head at the lack of civilisation.

"About ten miles down the road."

"_Men_," Lara sighed. "I've half a mind to just keep going."

"Plenty of time for that," André replied. "There're still three days until the eclipse."

His words elicited a scowl from Lara. "Thanks for the reminder."

* * *

**See, not so cliff-y this time.**


	22. Wager

**A/N**: Right. Ummm… Can you tell I have extreme reservations about putting this up:blushes insanely: Firstly, this is a long chapter, because there's one average length scene but I'd be getting "too short!" yells if I just put that one up. Then we have a rather long scene in which Lara and Kurtis have a rather interesting time. :ahem: Alright, alright, it's an R scene like several people have been yelling for, for weeks and weeks. Well, kinda. After about 2000 words we get a literary fade-to-black, which was necessary to stop it becoming too Harlequin Mills & Boon. :grin: So apologies to gutter-minded KTEB members who'll be screaming obscenities at me for cutting off, but I have no confidence in my R scenes.

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

Kurtis slept fitfully, certain now that Lara was dead. He and Bryce had watched with leaden hearts as the figure of Karel had appeared in the camera's line of sight – they now realised that Lara's camera was still attached, but that she lay motionless on the ground, waiting for death to claim her. They had witnessed the final exchange between their friend and the Nephilim, able to hear both sides of the conversation because of the close proximity of Karel to the tiny microphone. However, the revelation that someone had been sent to tail them did little to motivate them into changing location. Lara's pained gasps and coughs as her enemy attacked for a final time instilled complete listlessness in them, and although Bryce reached out and severed the connections before she took her last breath, it was obvious that she would not survive the battle.

Perhaps three hours had passed, and Kurtis had fallen into a doze only to shut out the grief and hopelessness that tormented him. Despite his exhaustion, he was quick to wake at the slightest noise.

When the faint rumble of an approaching vehicle roused him, Bryce was already at the tiny window in the rear doors of the van. "Jeep."

Kurtis reached for his R35 and Chirugai, and got up to join him. He had barely taken a step when Bryce sucked in his breath. "Oh, no, please, no."

Kurtis took his turn at the window, and closed his eyes at the intense wave of pain. "Don't be fooled. It has to be Karel." He opened his eyes for a second look. The figure of the woman he loved slid from the passenger side of the Jeep to the ground, and stretched kinks from its muscles wearily. "Sick son of a bitch," Kurtis muttered. "Any plans?" he directed at Bryce.

"Drive like hell?"

"Let's make that one plan B."

"Then what's plan A?" Bryce protested.

Kurtis shrugged. "I'll let you know when I figure it out."

Karel-Lara spotted them at the small window, and smiled. Another skewer of ice wedged itself firmly in Kurtis' heart. "He's seen us. We might as well get out – he could blow up the entire van with one of his fire-balls."

Every muscle tense, Bryce shoved open the door, and they both exited onto the sandy concrete. In any other situation, Kurtis would have found Bryce's overzealous wielding of his Scorpion X humorous, but at that moment, he was too busy levelling the R35 at Karel-Lara's head. The perfectly arched eyebrows shot up, and they heard Lara's voice muttering, "Well, at least they're cautious…"

"What's it doing?" Bryce muttered, as the Lara-thing bent to retrieve a knife from an ankle-holster and severed a strip of leather from the skirt she wore. Using her left hand and her teeth, she tied the strip around her right wrist and waved it at them impatiently.

The significance nagged at Kurtis, but he couldn't quite place it. Bryce, however, dropped the Scorpion in the sand and tore across the distance between the two vehicles before Kurtis could yell a warning. As he watched in utter shock, 'Lara' threw her arms around Bryce's neck and let him lift her off the ground and spin her in dizzy circles.

"I can't believe this!" he cried. "How the hell did you get away?"

Lara grinned. "André did it all. I just ran around like a complete pansy for hours."

As she spoke, the symbolism of the leather strip struck Kurtis. _Don't acknowledge that you know me unless I come up to you wearing a bandage tied around my right wrist. I have an evil twin._ In the absence of a bandage, she had improvised.

Kurtis put away his weapons, but stayed well back. It just seemed too much to hope for. If he let his dreams be reawakened, and he was wrong, he didn't think he would be able to take it. As much as he longed to approach Lara and take her in his arms, he couldn't bring himself to move. Instead, he leaned against the van and listened to her explain the events of the night. Several times, her eyes skipped to his, but she always glanced away again.

When her tale was done, Lara hushed further questions from Bryce, who seemed to have forgotten the existence of Kurtis, the van, and the rest of the world in his wonderment and relief. She turned towards him and began to approach carefully, wary of attack, aware that he had not yet suspended his disbelief.

"I know it's a huge leap of faith I'm asking you to make," she began, halting a few steps away. His expression was closed to her, and she strove for the same blankness. "I don't expect you to make it immediately. Just… trust me enough to work with me. I don't want to give the bastard any more advantage than he already has."

For a second, she thought she glimpsed a spark of emotion flare to life in his eyes, but when she looked closer, it was gone. The only response she gained was a slight nod, and she understood immediately that it was all she would receive for now. It was as if the three words phrased as a parting shot had never fallen from his lips, and a fresh ache, one not caused by the residues of evil, wormed its way deeper inside her. _Let it go for now._

"There's no way I'm staying here all night. I need a shower and a bed. André says there's a town about ten miles down the road, so I don't know about you, but that's where I'm going." Lara caught the keys André tossed her way and slid into the driver's seat of the Jeep. "Bryce," she called out of the window," leave the van. It'll stand out like a sore thumb."

"No way!" Bryce replied vehemently. "It's got all of my best equipment in it!"

"Go with Lara," Kurtis told him, and got into the driver's seat of the battered van. Grinning, Bryce hopped into the passenger seat of the Jeep, and André into the backseat. Everyone sensed Kurtis wanted some time alone. Sighing, Lara started the Jeep's engine and followed André's directions, putting further distance between them and Cappadocia as dawn stole over the horizon.

Guessing the reason for Lara's silence, Bryce shot her a sympathetic glance. "Give him a few hours. We listened to you dying. We were half-way through the mourning period – and, I might add," he continued pointedly, "it's the second time I've been psyching myself up for your memorial service."

Ignoring the comment, Lara frowned. "What do you mean, 'listened to me dying'?"

"Your mic and camera still work fine."

Remembering the tiny devices, Lara winced. "So you know I'm not exaggerating when I said I acted like a complete pansy."

Bryce considered. "We saw you running… then we shut off and packed up… when we reconnected to you, you were lying on the ground… It does rather point to 'pansy' status, doesn't it?"

The brunette glared into the distance and kept her mouth shut. Unexpectedly, André jumped in. "She fought valiantly for as long as her strength would allow. You caught her in strategising and at the end, that's all."

"How do you know?" Lara asked, still feeling a little stung by her friend's evaluation of her.

"I have eyes in the back of my head. Not literally," he added quickly, when Bryce craned his neck to look.

* * *

"No!" For the third time that morning, Lara bolted out of bed, weapon in hand. Nothing more threatening than an empty hotel room greeted her, although a sense of dread lingered.

It was futile to try to sleep, she finally admitted to herself. Within the hour she would be roused yet again by the same nightmare. Pushing her exhaustion to the back of her mind, Lara ducked past the heavy drapes that kept out the morning light, and stalked out onto the balcony that the room shared with the adjoining suite where Kurtis, Bryce and André slept. The warm air did nothing to wake her up, or dispel the residue of her nightmare.

Letting out a vocal sigh, she leaned her elbows against the railings and dropped her head into her hands, twining her fingers in her hair and pressing against her eyeballs with her palms as if that would help. In her fatigued state, she neglected to notice the soft click of the other door opening, but gradually the knowledge of footsteps seeped into her mind. She didn't bother to look up, hardly cared who was there. It wasn't until the aroma of cigarette smoke irritated the back of her throat that, with some surprise, she identified her companion as Kurtis. Since their reunion the night before, he had barely looked her way, and only spoken to her when he had to. Sensing he would come around in his own time, and was battling his own thoughts, she had made it easy for him to avoid her by pleading genuine weariness and turning in for the day.

"Can't sleep?" she addressed him now, without looking up.

"Your screaming woke me," he replied dryly.

"I was not screaming." Lara raised her head from her hands long enough to glare at him, and they both felt an inner shock.

_He looks terrible_, Lara thought, studying him covertly. _Well, terrible for Kurtis, anyway. It's a shame he's not wearing those leather pants…_ She gave herself a mental kick for letting her mind wander. _He needs a shave, and at least thirty hours of sleep._ She had no doubt that he would not appreciate being told this, however.

Kurtis scrutinised her just as carefully, noting the shadows under her eyes and the pallor of her skin. She appeared exhausted, and almost drawn in on herself. His heart ached at the sight of her, still half-steeped in mourning despite the evidence that she lived and breathed. Her beauty was muted, but still called strongly to him.

Taking his gaze as sceptical silence at her comment, she shook her head and relented. "It was hysterical shouting."

"I don't blame you." Surprised, Lara shot a glance his way. He returned it coolly. "I'm sorry I dragged you into this."

Lara shook her head. "You didn't. Werner did. As I recall, I was halfway to the fifth painting before we even exchanged a word." _You don't need words to communicate_, a nagging voice reminded her. She blinked to clear the memories of their silent showdown in the Louvre as Kurtis spoke again.

"You had no choice then. You had to clear your name. You can just walk away from this now."

Was he warning her off? In disbelief, Lara scowled at him. "Are you trying to tell me I _should_ walk away from it?" she asked sharply. "Because you can think again."

"You died, Lara. You died for my cause, and it's not fair of me to expect that you keep on with it."

"Whether you like it or not, it's my cause now, too. It's Bryce's cause, it's André's cause. It'd be the entire human race's cause if they knew about it. I don't want Karel to succeed any more than you do," she shot back, her already short temper frayed by overtiredness. "I can handle myself."

"Usually," Kurtis muttered under his breath, stubbing out his spent cigarette viciously.

"Why do men always want to shield me?" Lara asked the empty air derisively. "The more protective they get, the more I'm the one who has to do the protecting." The air around them rumbled as warm spatters of rain began to fall, at first sparsely, but gathering rapidly in number and momentum. It was as good a place as any to end the discussion, Lara thought, and she shouldered past Kurtis and back into her room.

Kurtis, however, had other ideas. "So now _I'm_ the incapable one?" he retorted, following her into her darkened sanctuary and staring at her with eyes that shot daggers.

Lara stepped in closer, caught up in the heat of the argument, which had not risen above speaking volume. "Ha! See? You admit that you were calling me incapable!"

"You weren't too capable last night."

"Bet I lasted longer than you would have." The atmosphere was so charged between them that the words immediately became double entendre.

"Oh, I doubt it."

"Prove it," Lara challenged, face only inches away from his, her eyes flashing cold fire.

Neither of them could remember who initiated the movement – all each knew was that the other was kissing them, deeply and furiously. Lara's anger only fuelled her urgency, and she lost herself in the kiss, revelling in the sensations caused by his hands, his lips, the unique scent she had missed so much. It was hard to believe that the fingers that explored her body were the same ones that had showed so much restraint in Paris, but his rough touch brought similar ripples of delight to her skin.

Kurtis broke the kiss first, intending to speak, but it took him a second to remember how to form words. "It's a bet? What are your stakes?"

Regaining her equilibrium, Lara stepped back and folded her arms across her chest. "Just the pleasure of winning will do for me," she retaliated, throwing a half-taunting, half-seductive look his way. "And yourself?"

"I wait until you've recovered from your numbing exhaustion… and then I get a repeat performance." Kurtis brushed his fingers over the hem of the black tank top she had worn to sleep in, sliding his fingertips beneath the fabric and grazing bare flesh. The touch sent slivers down her spine, but she smiled, shrugged away from it.

"Well, if you're as good as you claim, I'm sure I'll have no problem with that," she replied, backing out of reach. "I shouldn't hold my breath, though. Everyone thinks they can do better, but it's rare that anyone makes the grade."

The anger was fading from their exchange, replaced by heat of a different origin – that of rising desire and anticipation. As if gearing up for a fight, the two slowly circled one another, never breaking eye contact.

"Scared?" Lara threw at him, after a few moments.

"As I recall," he answered dryly, "it's your move. You're the one who keeps moving away." _Chicken_, his eyes added.

"Fair enough." Lara covered the distance between them swiftly and placed both hands on his chest, taking a moment to savour his warmth against her palms. Her fingertips dragged a little way down the front of his shirt in a gentle scratch before she shoved him backwards, without warning. Taken by surprise, Kurtis landed hard on the bed, and barely had time to look up before she advanced again, to crawl on hands and knees over him. "How's this for a move?" she whispered against his lips.

Kurtis responded by deepening the kiss, at the same time raising himself to a sitting position and reaching around to grab her firm posterior, unbalancing her. By complete coincidence, she was sure – _not_ – she ended up sitting in his lap, thighs straddling his waist and arms about his neck, in an attempt to stop herself from falling sideways, naturally. With a jolt of arousal, she felt him hard against her, and moved slowly, still with restraint, pressing her hips to his and grinding just a little. Though he tried to hide it, she felt rather than heard his shaky intake of breath, and drew back enough to watch his striking azure eyes cloud with need.

"This is just going to be too easy," she whispered in his ear. He seemed to be forgetting their bet. "Maybe I should make a wager after all."

Before she knew it, she was overturned, Kurtis' full weight on top of her. Strangely, she felt more turned on than claustrophobic, and returned his heated gaze with one of her own as he growled, "Name your prize."

"Let me think about it. I'm sure I'll have plenty of time to do so when I'm staring at the ceiling and you're tiring yourself out."

Kurtis shrugged, amusement colouring his expression. "It'll be the last thing on your mind, since you'll be out of it the entire time. But I guess it doesn't matter that you don't have anything picked out, since you won't be collecting on it." He kissed her again, forcefully, as if the competitive edge was as much of an aphrodisiac for him as for Lara. Perhaps it was. All she knew was, she wanted him. Two things were getting in her way – one, this infuriating battle of wills, although there was no way she was going to lose it, and two, the fact that she was pinned beneath him. That could be remedied.

She turned her head, breaking the kiss, and let her smile show as she breathed, "You think I'm not going to make you work for that position?" Barely giving the words time to register, she surged upright, brushing her lips against his as she fluidly reversed their situations, leaning with all her weight on his arms to incapacitate him. With a hum of triumph, she grinned at him from her dominant location before kissing him again. _Much better._

Kurtis' strong hands moved to her hips and slid upwards, bringing her tank top up with them. Tingling from head to foot, Lara raised her arms and let him slip the garment over her head, leaving her topless above him. In the past she had seen raised eyebrows, eyes that glazed over in heavenly shock. Men who never looked into her eyes at the best of times never looked anywhere but her chest during and afterwards. She had learned to tolerate it. But Kurtis never blinked an eye. Instead, he studied her almost analytically for a few seconds, ran a single fingertip over each nipple, and continued to kiss her lips, sitting up and pulling her against his chest.

After a millisecond of disbelief, a strange tenderness flooded over Lara in a tidal wave, and she reacted warmly, pulling his own shirt away and pushing him back to a horizontal position. As the flesh of their torsos met, an electric spark seemed to jump from one to the other. "You seem a little lost for words all of a sudden," Kurtis teased, watching her face.

"I'm strategising," she replied, and sat up to get a better look at him. Carefully, she played her slender, dextrous fingers over a muscular chest, powerful biceps and the scarred expanse of taut stomach that had no less appeal than the unblemished skin around it. "What's your excuse, warrior-boy?" she asked, before moving her lips into play over the areas where her fingers had lingered.

"Just waiting for my moment." Lara almost smiled, and would have, had her mouth not been otherwise engaged. His voice lacked the cocky tone of his words, and she knew he was distracted by her actions.

"Let me know when it comes. I might not notice." She returned her lips to his, and her fingers to his belt, applying calculated, fleeting pressure where it counted as she stripped him of the remainder of his clothing. _Not bad at all_, she judged, raising an eyebrow just enough to keep him insecure and moving back to lie at his side, trailing kisses over his neck.

"By my count, I'm just about winning. I've managed to resist completely undressing you, somehow." The sarcasm was mild and barely noticeable, and Lara grinned, thoroughly enjoying herself.

"I don't know," she threw back at him, 'walking' her fingers from his neck downwards. "Maybe your kind of foreplay just bores me."

Most men would have taken it as a criticism. Kurtis was confident enough in his abilities to see the truth through the teasing, and just grinned. Before she knew it, Lara had been seized in powerful arms and pulled onto his lap. Strong hands with trigger-happy fingers at last cupped her sensitive breasts, the left lingering, the right caressing briefly before travelling lower, slipping beneath the waistband of her pants and searching out the tiny spot that could unleash so much feeling. His breath was warm on the back of her neck as he whispered, "Bored?"

The whole thing had happened so suddenly that Lara could do no more than gasp in his arms, at the mercy of his skilled fingertips and the waves of pleasure that grew in momentum as the seconds passed. She swallowed hard, fighting the current without questioning whether or not she should give in. "Bored to death," she agreed, her voice as even as she could make it. Involuntarily, her fingers twisted in the bedspread and tightened into fists. _I will _not _give him the satisfaction_, she resolved, the thought hazy and altogether futile. She knew that with each movement Kurtis made, her body shook with the response, and that the moisture that met his fingers gave away her precarious position, balanced between tension and blissful release. She bit her lip hard to keep from crying out as the pressure in her muscles built up to unbearable proportions, and a soft chuckle in her ear frustrated her to even greater magnitude.

_If I let him tip me over the edge, he'll have won._ As wonderful as it would feel, Lara couldn't give him that. With supreme effort, she wrenched away. "As I said, bored to death. My move."

Kurtis shook his head in admiration as she crawled over him once again. Her silken braid, returned to its usual auburn shade as a result of the shower she had taken earlier, fell over her shoulder to coil against the light down of dark hair that grew on his chest as she contemplated him. "I've just decided on my prize," she informed him coolly. _Time to get back in control of this situation._ With one hand, she scratched lightly over the bare skin at his shoulders and began to meander downward with calculated lethargy as she waited for his reply.

"Oh? Please, feel free to fantasise," he answered with measured sarcasm. "I'm so confident of winning that I can do _this_–" he reached for the knife on her bedside cabinet, slit the material of the light sweatpants she had worn to sleep in from hip to ankle and pulled them away, leaving her as naked as himself – "and still come out on top."

"Hmm…" Lara's fingers at last found their target and closed around warm skin, his hardness under her palm sending new shivers through her as she teased him. Kurtis' intense blue eyes flickered with desire at her touch, but he maintained eye contact surprisingly well. "When I win, we have a little discussion about empty, spur-of-the-moment declarations of love." At her words, his eye contact did falter briefly. Lara supposed his plan had been to pretend it had never happened, but there was no way she was going to stand for that. Perhaps in the middle of their first intimate encounter wasn't the best time to bring it up, but if it was going to unsettle him enough to give her back the edge she'd lost… _All's fair in love and war._

He met her gaze once more, and the glimmer of amusement that had been present was utterly gone. Lara returned her hand to his shoulder, and watched his face for the truth as he spoke, quietly but with a hard edge to each syllable. "Empty? Don't make judgements about things you know nothing about." He moved to overturn her and leave, but with necessary violence, Lara held him in place, her eyes displaying no malice, but more a yearning for understanding. They stared at each other for long seconds, speaking without words of insecurities, of desires, of love. The fragile balance of control both had been exercising tipped, and iron wills shattered. In one mutual movement, they fell against one another, lips locking once more. The world faded completely from Lara's mind as she felt Kurtis pushing inside her, and she bit back a gasp as what she had longed for since Prague finally came to pass…

* * *

**:hides****: Criticise if you must, but please don't flame. :points at the KTEB delegation, who are all standing nearby: They've been turning me to smut! They made me do it!**


	23. The Morning After

**A/N**: Well, that last chapter seems to have, um, gone down well… Have a less smutty one. :grin:

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

"Congratulations," Lara said grudgingly, letting her head drop onto Kurtis' chest. "I think you just bested me."

Kurtis cracked open an eye and grinned. "I was about to award that honour to you, but if you're admitting it…"

"In that case, I call a tie." A comfortable heaviness in every limb, Lara let herself relax for the first time in over an hour. "Go to sleep." _Thank god we got through that without professing undying devotion and making plans to elope_, she thought drowsily, listening to Kurtis' heart beat rhythmically beneath skin that radiated warmth. It was the last thought she had for some time.

Inevitably, her rest did not last long. When Lara jolted awake, reaching for her knife once again, searching out a glimpse of blonde hair and green fire as a matter of survival, sapphire eyes tinged with concern met her own. Gentle hands took away her weapon and pushed her back to a horizontal position. "Want me to stay awake and keep watch?" Kurtis asked quietly, only half-sarcastic.

"Don't start patronising," Lara warned, willing her heart to calm. _Idiot.__ Just like a bloody child, practically afraid of the dark._ Disgusted with herself for showing so much weakness, she burrowed down under the covers and sighed. Only the barely-felt touch of a calloused finger running up and down the back of her neck reassured her that his respect for her remained.

On the brink of sleep, unable to move or speak even if she had wanted to, his quiet voice filtered into her sleep-fogged mind. "I love you."

_I'm still awake._ The words never made it to her lips. She could only let herself smile, face hidden from his view, as she slipped into slumber.

* * *

When Kurtis woke, Lara was gone, but her warmth and unique scent lingered in the bedsheets. Her knife was also missing from the bedside table, indicating that she'd had another nightmare that had failed to wake him. Sitting up, he heard her voice coming from the adjacent room, sounding measured and thoughtful. "So the eclipse is in three days. I knew it was coming, but I had no idea the boxes could be opened then."

"The moon is a powerful factor. When it is at it's strongest, either blocking out the sun or shining with its full reflected light, the Black Angel can be called once more," André's bland tone replied as Kurtis dressed and pushed open the connecting door.

At his entrance, Lara looked up from Bryce's laptop and gave the barest of smiles – no full-on, dramatic acknowledgement of what had happened a few hours before, but enough to reassure him she would not deny it changed things for them.

"You joining History 101 too, then?" Bryce asked from the corner of the room, where he sprawled in a chair, still appearing… what was the English term? _Absolutely knackered._ As Kurtis looked his way, the Londoner lifted an eyebrow, smirking, in silent congratulations on his 'conquest' of Lara. Kurtis could not help but grin, and both he and Bryce received sharp, if not a little amused, glares from the conquered woman in question.

The Lux Veritatis warrior moved to her side as she returned to perusing the web pages she had brought up on the imminent eclipse. "Starts at two-oh-three in the afternoon – we're going to be hard-pressed to do this without an audience," he observed.

"They'll convince themselves they were hallucinating. People always do." Lara clicked back to a search engine and entered a string of words: 'screamer "black angel" nephilim cappadocia rosha rahil "lux veritatis"', and, as an afterthought, 'prophecy'. Unsurprisingly, no results were found, and the closest matches dealt with Turkish holiday destinations and several Gothic porn sites. Rolling her eyes, the tomb raider put down the laptop and sighed. "This is getting us nowhere. I think we know everything we're going to know. We need to work out a plan."

"Phase one – get back to the temple district undetected," Kurtis put in. "I doubt it'd be that hard, since Karel needs what we have. It's getting to the Nephilia Veritas that's going to be tricky. That's where he'll be waiting for us."

"Nephilia Veritas?" Bryce looked completely bemused.

"It's the temple we need to be in when we open the boxes," Lara supplied, before continuing, "Would it be possible for us to just walk in with the boxes at the exact moment of the total eclipse, and open them immediately?"

"It'd be a challenge, but that would be the best way…" Andre agreed slowly. "What you have to think about is the hordes of human cult members he'll have as backup, ready to shoot you the instant you appear. Whether the boxes are open or not, you'll still be vulnerable to bullets, and if you die, he's won."

A sombre silence followed his statement. Lara hesitated before asking, "Is it necessary for the temple to be standing when we're…" She stopped, tried to articulate what she was about to suggest in a way that wouldn't seem too sacrilegious.

"What she means is, can we blow up the temple, eliminating the human competition, and still activate the boxes?" Kurtis cut in, grinning at Lara's discomfort.

"You want to blow up an ancient monument?" André asked, perplexed.

"No," Lara hastened to explain, "I'd rather leave it standing – it's absolutely beautiful. But if it's a choice between keeping the temple and saving the world…"

André nodded, appearing thoughtful. "I've read that the rubble of a holy building will keep a dilution of its enchantments for a number of years afterwards – but how would you avoid the attention of the police then?"

No one had any ideas. Lara, Kurtis and André threw possible strategies around for the next half-hour, but nothing came to fruition. Bryce stayed strangely quiet.

"How about the roof?" Kurtis put forward. "I know it's not exactly in the temple, but–"

"A-ha!" Bryce interrupted triumphantly. "I've got it!"

"Eureka," Lara said wryly. "Go on, Archimedes."

"It's about what you said about blowing up the temple," the Londoner began, reaching for his laptop. He pointed a finger at André. "You said the rubble of a holy building stays magical for years. That got me thinking about if we could be nearby and have the stones fly around us, but that's too risky." He brought up a blank spreadsheet and began to enter equations, talking all the while. "Then I thought, if only we could just have the energy but not the stones and stuff."

"I like where you're heading with this," Andre said, nodding. "Go on."

"There's a lesser-known nineteenth century magician-scientist guy called Phillips… I came across his stuff when I was looking up that Infada stone for you; it's similar in principle – magical rock. It wasn't relevant to the Infada case, but Phillips tried to measure how far a mystical energy would travel when its source was destroyed, before it dispersed. His results were sketchy, but he managed to work out this formula."

He showed them a web page filled with, to Lara's mind, incomprehensible gibberish. "So, what you're saying is… we blow up the temple and it creates an outward shock wave of the enchantment we need to open the boxes," she summed up.

"Exactly! All we need to do is stand at minimum safe distance, and open the boxes as the energy comes at us!" Bryce agreed enthusiastically.

"Will it be concentrated enough?" Kurtis wanted to know.

"Give me a few hours with my laptop and I'll let you know."

* * *

"I thought it was common knowledge that those things will send you to an early grave?" Lara stepped up beside Kurtis on the balcony and eyed his cigarette with extreme distaste.

"If I'm going through cold turkey when we're chasing around after Karel, there's a much earlier grave waiting for all of us," Kurtis rationalised, and took a deep drag for effect.

Lara snorted. "Junkie." The pinkened sky from the setting sun cast a warm glow against her face, highlighting her features and accentuating the beauty that lingered even through her irony.

"Yeah… but I'm your junkie."

"Over the past two years, I've become famous for my bad judgement," Lara said blandly, injecting no implication into the statement. Her eyes revealed nothing to him, either.

_Oh, I knew it. She's just too damn stubborn to accept what we did without a fight._ "Regrets?" he asked, matching her in tone.

"Not yet, dearest. Give it time." Now there was an edge to her voice, and she stared out into the distance as though he didn't exist. Irritation flared through Kurtis.

"Ooh, that hurt. Call an ambulance…" he mocked. "You know, sometimes you can be a real…" There was no word in his vocabulary that would fit, and he trailed off, gesturing frustratedly.

She shot him a sideways glance that was both pissed off and entertained. "Believe the word you're after there is 'prat'. Learn it. I'll be using it a lot," she taunted mildly.

_Oh, no. You don't lead me off-topic that easily. _"I have a feeling I will, too. For someone who's not having any regrets, you're acting very… whatever the adjective for 'prat' is." Kurtis fixed her with a stare that demanded answers. Inwardly, he couldn't bear the implication that the pleasure they had shared hours before would be the only time for them. Outwardly, he just wanted to slap her.

For a fleeting moment, she looked cornered, but recovered well. "Prattish. And I'm not having regrets. I'm just…" She shook her head, her own anger beginning to peak. Although the danger signs for a major blow-up were present, Kurtis just couldn't leave it.

"What? Mourning the loss of a world record for abstinence? Coming to terms with the newfound realisation that you're a lesbian? _What?_"

Her dark look could have withered the nearby plant life. Her syllables bit into the dusk with precision. "Trying to find a door in the walls I love to build up after I let myself close to anyone. All right?" She pushed off the railing and stalked into her own suite, slamming the door behind her.

"Well, at least I found a window," Kurtis muttered to himself, staring after her. Shaking his head in angry confusion, he fidgeted, torn between following to continue the argument and leaving her well alone. The latter held considerably more logic at that moment, and Kurtis retreated back to the room where Bryce was calculating furiously. "André back yet?"

"Nope," Bryce answered, looking up. "Wish he'd hurry up though. I'm bloody starved." He set aside his laptop and nodded towards the door that led through to Lara's room. "Trouble in paradise?"

Kurtis snorted in reply. The words for what was going on between them were too hard to find.

"Give her time, mate. From what I gather, most of the men after her want her body and her money. There're only a few she's let herself trust, and they've all double-crossed her, or died." He gave a bittersweet smile, and shrugged. "Can't be easy."

"All of them?"

"All of them. Three, four? Not more than five." He shot a shrewd glance Kurtis' way. "Truthfully, you've done well to get as far as you have."

Kurtis nodded; Bryce had given him food for thought. "Thanks." Bryce shrugged and returned to his work. Faintly, through the connecting door, Lara's voice made them both glance up again.

"Thanks, Bryce. Appreciate it." Her tone was thick with insincerity.

"Hey, I could do worse. Names, dates, events and places…" Bryce threatened teasingly.

The door opened just enough to admit Lara's viciously scowling face. "Do it and die," she told him ominously, not sparing a glance for Kurtis. The door slammed behind her as Bryce grinned and greeted a bemused André, who had arrived back with food, and a mysterious briefcase.

"Champion!" he exclaimed, snatching a carton of Chinese food from the pile. "You've saved my life. I was wasting away!"

"What's in the briefcase?" Kurtis asked. The mysterious non-human had been away two hours; it had obviously been difficult to procure, whatever it was.

"Plastic explosives," came the matter of fact reply. Kurtis shook his head appreciatively. The guy pulled more surprises out of his hat every day.

The food had almost disappeared, with Lara's being chipped into by a still-ravenous Bryce, when the tomb raider made her next appearance. "I will, I promise," she said into the phone, smiling. "You watch your back, too. Egypt's more hostile than you think, even when you're in the open." She paused, halting in front of Bryce as she listened to the reply. "Will do. Take care. Here's Bryce." She held out the phone. "Kosa."

Bryce's eyes lit up, and he took the phone. "Alright, mate?"

Lara deftly snatched the packet of prawn crackers from his lap and made for her carton of cooling food. Without preamble, she opened André's briefcase and regarded the explosives within with a critical eye. "Nice work," she judged finally. "The hard part will be getting them into the temple."

"I'll do it," Kurtis volunteered, his mind already mulling over possibilities.

"The hell you will," Lara retorted immediately. "You're the one who needs to come out of this alive. I'll do it."

"Neither of you will," André cut in, surprisingly authoritative. "If one of you dies, the other doesn't stand a chance. I'm going tonight."

"How can I possibly help?" Lara asked, a little bitterly. "Kurtis gets hold of the Angel, and destroys the Nephilim. The humans are going to be blown up before we even get in range. I may as well not be there."

"I've seen what's going to happen." Kurtis turned his stare from Lara to André in disbelief as the man spoke. "No, I can't tell you, or it won't happen as I've seen it. But you have a strong part to play," he reassured Lara.

"I'll take your word for it," she muttered, returning to her meal.

* * *

**Apologies for the exposition… I know this one wasn't one of my best…**


	24. Restless

**A/N:** I know, it's been ages… but we're now nearing the end of my little adventure. I can see three, maybe four chapters more, and then that's it. This chapter has no point whatsoever, but I thought it'd be nice to have a little conversation.

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

_Concentrate…_ Kurtis snapped back into his own body with a sharp shock and the usual nauseating sensation of unbalance. Something was different this time, though. It took a second for him to realise that a pair of hands on his shoulders were steadying him. "Take a break," Lara instructed in a tone that would brook no argument.

He shook her off, furious with himself. "I can't keep it going. I have twenty-four hours to get this right, and I can't keep it going." He hit out at the wall, needing to vent his frustration on something, but Lara intercepted his arm and pushed him into a chair.

"You need to rest. You'll wear yourself out and then you'll be good for nothing." He couldn't fault the advice – he was already so exhausted it was an effort to initiate Farsee at all. But his failure still stung.

"I take it this is your first time at saving the world, then." Lara took a seat a few feet away on the bed, and watched him carefully. She was concerned for his well-being, but she was damned if she was going to tell him that. It was clear that he hadn't been sleeping any more than she had, and she had heard him pacing the balcony the past two nights as she had been busy attempting to wear a track in the carpeting with her own footsteps.

He glared defensively at her question. "If I need a shrink, I'll hire one."

She ignored his tone, and instead began to reminisce aloud. "I remember my first time, back in ninety-six. I'd done small stuff before – been to Cambodia with Werner for an artefact, defeated a demon on an island off the coast of Ireland, killed Bigfoot…" She smiled, almost wistfully, as Kurtis listened in silence. "And I thought that'd be the most risky job I ever took on. My field experience was mostly negotiating for artefacts, or going off to remote places to find them… until I had a run in with Natla Technologies. When I found out the artefact in question would pretty much turn the human race into alien, fireball-shooting, winged, pod-laying…" She shook her head, unable to put a name to the monstrosities she had seen. "I realised it fell to me to stop it. Not a good feeling. I overworked myself so much that I fell asleep on an enemy yacht – very risky, since the enemy were still on board at the time, and they'd taken my weapons a few hours before." She sighed. "And I drove my Harley into the sea."

"You did _what?_" Kurtis jerked his head up and stared at her, utterly incredulous.

"It was that, or become a giant meatball with a head and arms attached. But I wasn't pleased." She shrugged. "Prefer Norton Streetfighters nowadays, though. Every time I look at a Harley, it seems to accuse me." Her eyes gleamed with subtle humour, and Kurtis couldn't help but smile back.

"Should have known it wasn't me you were eyeing up that day near the Metro," he replied ironically.

Lara strove to keep a deadpan face, but as her facial muscles screamed protest she was forced to give in to the grin that fought its way onto her face. "It was fifty-fifty," she confessed. "Bikes are one of my secret weaknesses. Gorgeous men on bikes, even more so, but most of them that I've encountered are complete idiots not even worth looking at."

"And your other secret weaknesses?" Kurtis asked, encouraged by her implication that she found him attractive. Over the past couple of days, their talk had been completely business, and Lara had barely spoken when the general topic of conversation between the four of them had become non-cataclysmic.

She tipped her head to one side, considering. "Guns, knives, shiny trinkets and such. Challenges. Adrenaline. And you?"

"Bikes, guns, rock music, intelligent conversation… a good argument…"

Lara grinned. "I can't deny that one has its attractions every now and again."

"I seem to have picked up a new weakness lately. She drives me nuts half the time, but I just can't help myself."

A jolt of warmth ran through Lara's bones, and she responded with a sideways look that was not quite as disapproving as she meant it to be. "Drives you nuts? You're already criminally insane," she told him lightly.

"Why, thank you." He got up, moved around the bed to the nightstand to extract the Box of Rahil from its draw – anything to provide a distraction. However playful her words, he had decided that if she wanted him, she was more than capable of making a move herself – but right now her mere presence was making that resolution hard to keep. "You do realise you're just as crazy as I am, if not more?"

"Yes," Lara answered, with a touch of satisfaction. She hesitated, looked up at him. "We're a good team, you and I," she admitted quietly.

Kurtis set down Rahil and sat beside her. "Getting sentimental in your old age?" he goaded gently.

She narrowed her eyes at him in warning. "Oh, shut up," she advised, and kissed him.

He responded tentatively at first, and Lara felt a prickle of guilt invade her brain at the way she had held him at arm's length – a prickle that dissipated as he overcame the hesitation and pulled her closer, into a kiss that left all others wanting. The lips that formed sarcastic retorts with such ease teased hers skilfully; the tongue that could be so sharp reached gently for her own.

Quite a while later, Lara sat up, carefully easing out of Kurtis' still-sleeping arms. _This is probably the last chance he'll give himself to rest_, she thought, glancing at the clock and blanching at the time it showed. _Three a.m. Eleven hours to world destruction, and here I am sitting in bed._ Suddenly restless, she slid out from under the covers and dressed quickly, fervently wishing for her huge gymnasium at Croft Manor. With the hour of the eclipse drawing ever closer, she couldn't justify the risk of going out for a run – Karel's spies could be close. Instead, she stepped out onto the balcony and began a variety of complex stretching routines. By the time Kurtis stepped up behind her, her nervous tension was partially abated.

"Is that humanly possible?" he asked, fascinated.

Lara lowered the leg she had been holding almost parallel to her body, foot above her head, and shrugged. "When I was a little girl, Daddy Dearest wanted me to take ballet. I kicked and screamed for days – I wanted to do gymnastics instead – but he wouldn't give in."

"Somehow I can't see you backing down either," Kurtis said dryly, lighting a cigarette and ignoring her frown.

"Oh, I didn't," Lara agreed. "As a compromise, I took both, so it's fairly easy for me. Dropped ballet as soon as his back was turned, though," she added. Arching her back in a final stretch, she sighed. "You're supposed to be asleep."

"Ten hours, fourteen minutes to go." His answer elicited a wince from her. "I'm going to start training again," he continued.

"No, you're not. You can do that on the way, and not before." Her only answer was silence, and when Lara turned to face him, she realised he'd slipped straight into Farsee again. With a surge of irritation, she began a silent count inside her head, and when he rocked backwards once more, eyes snapping open, she folded her arms. "Three minutes, seventeen seconds. Less than usual, is my guess."

"Shut up," he muttered, bracing himself for a second attempt.

"You know," Lara said contemplatively, ignoring the fact that he'd left his body once again, "obstinacy isn't an attractive feature, but lack of common sense is even worse. How long is it going to take you to realise that five minutes is your limit, and until the angel is called no amount of practice is going to help you?"

A few seconds later, he was back. "_Seven _minutes is my limit," he corrected.

Lara snorted. "I'm sure that extra two minutes will make all the difference," she shot back sarcastically. "If you're determined to cripple yourself, at least wait until the world is saved. For now, you have your end of a bargain to fulfil."

He knew exactly what she meant, but feigned ignorance. "How'd you figure that one?"

"We tied. You got your prize, but I didn't get mine." Lara wasn't at all sure she wanted this discussion, but going into a deadly situation without clarification of it would be unquestionably worse.

"You wanted to talk about empty declarations of love, right?" Kurtis stepped away from her, his voice cool. "I can't say I know anything about those."

"And yet twice in the last four days you've told me you love me," Lara responded quietly, and waited for the reply with the beginnings of an anxious knot forming in her stomach.

Kurtis was silent for a long moment. When he spoke, it was with obvious reluctance, even awkwardness. "I don't exaggerate, and I don't lie. I do regret letting you know, but I can't change that."

The relief of his admission sent tension flooding from Lara's muscles, and as much as she hated it, for a few seconds she felt unbearably weak and vulnerable. However, she wasn't about to rush into his arms and declare undying devotion. "The last man who told me he loved me," she said with an effort, "turned mercenary, betrayed his friends, his country, and me."

"The last man who told you he loved you was clearly a prat, to use one of your terms," Kurtis replied without hesitation. Lara glanced up at him, and away again, thrown by his eyes boring into her face. "I guess what you have to ask yourself is, am I?"

_That's the million-dollar question. _Lara drew in a breath. "Love doesn't really give a damn what the answer is." She wouldn't stand for an abstract reply like that, and she knew without looking at him that Kurtis wouldn't, either. She was going to have to say three little clichéd words that pissed her off most before he'd back down. _May as well get it over with._

"André, bleedin' hell, mate!" Bryce's exclamation banished all thoughts of sentimentality from the atmosphere. "Lara!"

A flick of her ponytail, and Lara had left the balcony, all business. Kurtis followed, and sucked in a breath at André's countenance. "What happened?"

André smiled weakly despite a split lip, regarding them through one eye – the other bruised and swollen shut. "Don't worry, the explosives are set."

"Welcome party?" Lara asked, reaching for one of the vials of André's own healing elixir.

"I can't drink that. It may heal you, but it poisons my kind," he replied. "I heal quickly, don't worry about me." He winced as Lara produced her battered first aid kit and began to clean various scrapes to his face. "But yes, I ran into a group of men on my way back. None of them lived to tell the tale, but their absence will rouse suspicion in Karel's mind."

"If I were him, I'd be pretty paranoid too," Bryce agreed. "Some good news, though – Phillips' theory will give us enough energy to open the boxes."

"Good." Lara smiled, restlessness on the rise again. "Now get packed up. We move out in four hours."

* * *

**Tune in next week for the big showdown! Or, um, at least, part one of the big showdown… Cliffhangers? Moi?**


	25. War For Control

**A/N:** The showdown begins… I can't believe I'm almost done! Sorry for the update delays – I'm busy working on a portfolio to take to an interview which will determine if I get into university or not… :fingers crossed: Anyway, come Friday I'll be back to writing like a maniac, and the story'll be over before you know it! Thank god for that, huh?

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

"Ten minutes, boys." A mixture of nerves and anticipation forced every one of Lara's muscles into almost painful tension. She glanced at Kurtis, who seemed surprisingly relaxed – apart from the fact that he had chain-smoked out of the window for just about the entire journey and muttered string after string of unrepeatable curses upon running out of cigarettes.

For herself, Lara couldn't wait to get this over with. For over a month, she'd lived and breathed Eckhardt, Karel, and these damned boxes. Once this was over, she was going somewhere with a freezing climate and staying there until the memories of Turkey had faded. _Freezing climate? Back to England it is, then,_ she told herself satirically.

Crowds had gathered in the streets; eager experts and amateurs alike all waited to witness the eclipse that would be more spectacular than they imagined. "Are you sure you timed the explosives right, André?" Bryce fretted as they took up inconspicuous positions at his calculated 'minimum safe distance'.

"For the fifth time, Bryce, yes!" Lara cut in before André could answer. _I hope,_ she added mentally, fingers brushing over the trigger of one of her twin Uzis as she directed a critical eye at the sky. The eclipse was beginning – however, the boxes could not be activated until the sun was completely dominated by the moon's shadow. The light was weakening, casting a bluish tinge of dusk over everything, and Lara shivered despite herself at the sudden eeriness of familiar surroundings.

"Twenty seconds." It was the first time Kurtis had spoken in a long while. Lara had the feeling that any gesture of support she made would not be appreciated, but she sent him silent wishes of good luck anyway.

"See you on the other side," Bryce muttered.

Although the well-known rule with eclipses is to never look directly at one, they all knew when the moment of total eclipse arrived. Firstly, the light changed once more, plunging the surrounding temples into darkness. Secondly, the air and ground shuddered with an explosion that sent tongues of fire into the air, and shards of rubble were thrown outwards with impressive force.

"Now!" André called over the blast and the confused, terrified chatter of bystanders.

Quickly, Lara flicked the catch that held Rosha shut, and threw open the lid. Immediately, it scalded her flesh and emitted such an intense beam of light that she was forced to drop it, turning her head from the glare and massaging stinging fingers. Beside her, Kurtis released Rahil's spirit, with similar results. Through eyes slitted as protection from the bright display, all four watched as a ghostly human form rose from each tiny container. As the spirits of Rosha and Rahil were freed at last, the light dimmed to a tolerable level, and the phantom figures could be seen more clearly.

Both wore simple attire, ceremonial robes without the elaborate design of more recent centuries. Rosha was petite, yet her face bore a determined streak, and Lara was fleetingly reminded of her own reflection in the mirror until she branded the notion as romantic and ridiculous. Rahil, on the other hand, seemed Rosha's antithesis – very tall and clearly possessing great physical strength, he appeared a little more lacking in attitude.

From the moment of their release, the spirits had had eyes only for each other, and now they moved as one into a heated embrace. As their lips met, the images faded, and suddenly exploded into nothing in a shower of white-hot sparks that fell to earth as agonising rain.

"And they all lived happily ever after," Bryce muttered, rubbing a welt that had risen on his cheek as a result of the pyrotechnics. Lara smiled, but the expression held a bittersweet tinge. "Not to yell, 'Down with love!' too soon, but wasn't there supposed to be this angel?" the Londoner continued, casting an anxious gaze around him.

"Good question," Kurtis replied, hand at his Chirugai, muscles still tensed in readiness.

An icy cold breeze swept the air, which was already chilly from the eclipse. The light wind blew with more and more force until it became an effort to keep balance. Between the two boxes, there began to materialise a shape, vaguely human, naked, androgynous, with clawed fingers and feet and markings all over it that seemed to be more natural imprints than brands or tattoos. There was no hint of facial features to this translucent, flesh-coloured apparition that hung in mid-air before them, and horns, rather than the mythical wings, sprouted from each shoulder blade and further down its back.

Lara's eyes widened in shock – she had glimpsed the fully Nephilim Sleeper back in Prague, but that was nothing compared to this creature. She understood clearly for the first time why the Bible told of fallen angels – to give these things permanent, positive spiritual domain would be a huge stretch of the imagination.

Simultaneously, two things registered in her amazed mind. One was Kurtis' consciousness leaving his body, which she more felt than saw. The other was André's voice. "Lara."

With a sharp glance at Kurtis to check he was coping – at least for now – Lara followed André's gaze, and sighed. "Bloody wonderful."

From the ruins of the Nephilia Veritas, the entity she least needed to see was advancing, hair smouldering, clothes ripped and hanging in tatters from the body, murderous expression evident – Joachim Karel. The green fire of Lara's nightmares began to build around him once more, and she felt a surge of adrenaline born of fear as much as determination as she turned to Bryce and André. "Boys, get Kurtis out of here. I'll hold him off." At Bryce's protest, she levelled a threatening look at him. It was all he needed.

As each of the men slung one of Kurtis' arms around their shoulders, the Lux Veritatis warrior slumped, the colour draining from his face. Lara winced, fearing that the battle for control of the Screamer was leeching too much of his strength, but squared her shoulders nonetheless and turned back to the enemy as the Angel before them writhed and shook as if attempting to hold off possession.

As Karel drew nearer, Lara could see his distraction – with no backup, he was torn between the imminent corporeal battle with Lara and the ethereal war he was waging with Kurtis for control of the weapon that could make or break his future. Shooing Bryce and André back to the van, Lara opened fire on the Nephilim, hoping to shatter his concentration.

It worked. Unfortunately, it also meant his attention was brought completely back to Lara, and his green fire swelled. Lara dove to the side to dodge his first attack, and rolled to avoid the anticipated second, the screams of fleeing innocents reverberating in her ears. Strangely, the second attack didn't come, and Lara pulled herself to her feet, eyes widening, as Karel sprinted away under a barrage of orange fire.

The Angel of Darkness glided over, none too gracefully. "You okay?"

_This has to be the most bizarre moment of my entire life_, Lara decided, grinning at the faceless Angel with an American accent. "Never better. I thought your aim would be better, though."

"You try getting the hang of this thing," Kurtis answered, a little defensively. "Oh, and where's my body going?"

Lara suppressed a million lascivious comments with an effort. "The van, unless you have a better idea."

"I do."

* * *

"You sure this is a good idea?" Bryce asked, casting a doubtful eye over the hatch above as it slid closed.

"Positive," Lara replied, checking her Uzi's magazine to quash the concern she felt for Kurtis, who seemed to be struggling to fend off a mental attack from Karel. "This hatch only opens from the inside – unless you're a Biblical being, anyway – and it's a dead end. You won't have to worry about watching all four sides."

"Are we ready?" Kurtis cut in irritably, the featureless Angel back under his control. Lara guessed his annoyance stemmed from the strain of the internal battle.

Lara issued her final instructions to Bryce and André. "Protect his body. Shoot to kill – no risk-taking." Without waiting for a response, she started down the sloping tunnel after Kurtis, keeping a wary eye on his ethereal body in case it was overtaken by a less benign force.

They traversed the length of the winding corridor in silence and without human interruption. A couple of times, Kurtis faltered, and Lara felt an ominous prickle at the back of her neck as she contemplated the results of a hostile attack from the Angel. She was confident of Kurtis' mental strength, despite his failed training attempts at prolonging his Farsee jaunts, but long experience had taught her to stay on guard.

Finally, they reached the room Karel had chosen to show them Lara's traumatic past, and, unnerved by the memory, Lara whirled to pinpoint a metallic skittering just as something tapped against her foot.

_Kurtis' Boran X_. She grinned and pocketed the weapon. "I knew we'd forgotten something," she said, catching one pistol in her Uzi-free hand and dodging the other as the guns they'd had to abandon flew through the air towards her. _Telekinesis does have its benefits…_

Lara had thought to use the map they'd found in one of Amara's books to lead them to the Nephilim city, but Kurtis seemed to know the way. He kept his silence for so long Lara could easily envisage Karel leading her into a trap, using her belief in Kurtis to ensnare her in his fatal plot. "What about Karel?" she asked, firing a burst of bullets at a fleeing group of cult members up ahead. _This is just too easy. For me, anyway._

"He's hiding out behind powerful spells. I guess when he couldn't find us he prepared to defend himself – he's fuelling his strength from the Nephilim themselves. If I destroy enough of them, he'll be defenceless, and I can finish him off." Kurtis sounded distracted. Lara shot a sideways glance at him, remembering the pallor of his face as he'd collapsed.

"Are you alright?" she began, but fell silent as the answer became plain. The Angel flickered like a faulty Christmas light, as though the disturbance within it was causing it to short out.

"Hide!" Kurtis' voice was faint, sounding not weak, but very far away, as if he stood at the opposite end of a long tunnel. The meaning of the statement wasn't too hard to grasp. Karel was wresting control. _Lovely_, Lara thought wearily, hefting her woefully ineffectual Uzi and taking stock of prospective cover and escape routes in the area.

The Angel's blinking ceased, and it turned this way and that, seeming disorientated and somehow more sinister than when Kurtis had inhabited it. Perhaps it was just her imagination, but Lara sensed an aura of chaos infusing through the air.

The blank face turned in her direction, and a familiar chuckle escaped the being. "Lara Croft, we meet again." In response, Lara fired a staccato burst straight through Karel – literally. The slugs embedded themselves into the wall behind the creature, passing through him as they might a ghost.

In return, Karel shot a torrent of firebolts in her direction – the usual, putrid green Lara had grown to loathe. Just in time, she flung herself out of the way – with about as much grace as a ballet dancing hippopotamus – and hit the floor hard, the impact painfully absorbed by her left shoulder. When she looked up, the Angel was standing over her, triumphant – with an all-too-solid ornamental trident, plucked from the wall, aimed at her head.

* * *

**How am I doing? Honesty, please… if I don't get told where I'm going wrong, I can't fix it for the next chappie. And, as a tiny spoiler… next week, Lara has a rather disconcerting experience…**


	26. Ambush

**A/N: **Hi all… sorry for the delay in updating, I've been on a FFX kick. I solemnly promise to actually finish this one, instead of leaving people hanging… I just can't promise to update quickly, at least not until I've finished sitting on the PS2 fiddling with Lulu… :ahem:

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

Lara waited, every muscle tense, for Karel to strike, for sharp steel prongs to plunge through her flesh. Subtly, she moved her weight off her arms, ready to make a grab for the solid weapon in the insubstantial being's grip, but the attack never came. Instead, the trident shook, and Lara could guess what caused Karel's concentration to falter. _Thanks, Kurtis,_ she said silently as she seized the weapon and wrenched it away, vaulting to her feet and backing off, holding the trident in a defensive posture.

Recovering, Karel wrenched the huge fork's twin from its place on the wall, and faced his nemesis. Lara set herself into her staff-fighting stance and waited for the onslaught, teeth gritted in determination.

"Lara, you okay? Hold on – Kurtis is trying to get back in!" Bryce encouraged anxiously through the headset she wore.

_So now I'm a damsel in distress,_ Lara thought wryly, conveniently pushing aside the knowledge that she was, in fact, in need of rescue.

Ah, well. What needed to be done, needed to be done. Grunting acknowledgement to Bryce, Lara swung the trident at Karel's head, not at all surprised when it passed straight through, as her bullets had done. Karel didn't even bother to block, and she had barely recovered when he countered with a forceful blow that she only just managed to hold off in time. As she strained to hold the makeshift staff back from her body with all her strength, her arms screamed in protest, painful lactic acid building up at an accelerated rate due to the lack of blood flow.

When he finally relented for some unknown reason, Lara decided to learn the valuable lesson the experience had presented: offensive manoeuvres were useless. She stuck to blocking and trying to hook his weapon from his grasp with the prongs of her own. Minutes of this gruelling work passed, and by this stage Lara was functioning on adrenaline alone, and not much of that. She gasped for breath; however, the Angel exhibited no signs of strain. "Bryce… I can't keep this up," she managed to get out, ducking a particularly vicious blow.

For the first time since the beginning of the battle, Karel spoke, drowning out Bryce's frantic response. "Ah, an opponent with common sense. What a novelty."

"Somehow, some way, I'm going to send you back where you belong," the tomb raider promised, kicking a foot into the trident and almost succeeding in dislodging it from his grip. _Why doesn't he just drop the thing and fry me with magic?_ she wondered briefly, and then discarded the thought as the answer dawned on her – Karel was on an autopilot of sorts, chiefly concerned with fending off Kurtis' mental attacks.

It was time to be Distracto-Girl.

"You know," she said thoughtfully, hopping out of range, "I always found you – the real you, I mean – kind of sexy…" _Not_, she added mentally, as Bryce choked in her ear.

Karel lunged – and stopped short millimetres from her face. Lara hoped and prayed her suspicions were correct as to the reason why, and sighed her relief when the Angel backed off, letting the trident drop.

"Kurtis?" she queried, for confirmation.

"It's me," the familiar voice replied shortly, as the Angel surveyed the carnage and sent a long, sightless gaze her way. Lara guessed he was checking for wounds, but in that body, how could she be sure of anything? With deep unease, she recalled Karel's ability to mimic different faces and voices.

"How can I tell you're not Karel, pretending to be Kurtis?" She kept her distance, noting the distance between herself and the nearest doorway in the event that she needed to dive for cover.

He sighed, and the irritation in the sound was almost enough to convince her in itself. "Thirty-four D, twenty-four, thirty-five." It took her a second to recognise her own measurements, which she'd relayed to him so flippantly a few days before.

"You fucking memorised that," she muttered, refusing to admit her amusement. "What happened?"

"Just lost it for a second." He was still pissed off for some reason. _Because I called Karel sexy?_ She dismissed the fleeting thought before the urge to retch began to manifest. His next words made it all clear. "Why the hell are you here and not there with them?"

"Worried about me, muffin?" Lara sniped back sarcastically, incensed by his tone, as she snapped a fresh clip into her Uzi.

"There's nothing for you to do here. Nothing you can fight."

"I'm not staying up there. No way. I don't sit around on guard duty when the fate of the world's at stake!"

It was strange to see an angel shrug, but this one managed to convey every drop of dismissal Kurtis had in him. "Whatever."

They started down the corridor again, silent. Lara seethed at the realisation she was forced to face – Kurtis was right. She was in the way. But what Kurtis would never understand was that, in the way or not, she _had_ to be here. She was as much a part of this as he was. There had to be _some_ place in the scheme for her.

Kurtis broke the tense quiet as Lara clattered down a wrought-iron staircase, the vessel for his mind drifting alongside noiselessly. "I don't want you killed."

Was that tenderness in his voice? Lara dismissed the notion as quickly as it had arrived, and a flash of inspiration replaced it. "André's foreseen this. If I was meant to be up there, he would have said so."

"Fair enough." It was clear he was still unhappy about her presence, but they both knew too much was in the balance to risk bickering.

Lara followed Kurtis' lead, her thoughts reaching back to the double-page diagram they had discovered, showing a single street of the Nephilim city. How many Nephilim had remained there throughout the centuries, waiting, biding their time until the occasion was theirs to strike? _And how many will I be able to hold off before one gets to me?_

An exclamation brought her sharply back to the present.

"Forty-thousand thieves on the way! Backup requested _right now_," Bryce said tightly in her ear. "André's got them held off with a magic barrier thing for now, but it'll collapse any second…"

Lara and Angel-Kurtis traded glances, cut short by a wince from the hovering being as Karel made another attempt at takeover. "Go back and help them," Kurtis said distantly as he recovered.

"Bryce, enough for me to handle alone, or do you need us both?" She had a nasty feeling it was more than mere mortals could handle, but it was way too risky to take the Angel all the way back – Karel could take over at any second.

"Ten seconds ago, I would have said one extra gun. Now…" Bryce seemed horrified by what he saw. "I'd say two extra guns, a Chirugai, and a SWAT team, on the double…"

"If I go back into my body, Karel will get the Angel."

"If you don't, you won't have a body to go back into, and you might lose grip on the Angel anyway," Lara argued. "I'll go back to the others and help get rid of the rabble from behind them. You get back into your body and kill the ones in front. I seriously think being out of yourself for so long's not doing you any good."

Kurtis was silent – she knew it was the closest she would get to agreement. "I'm on my way, Bryce," she informed her microphone, and turned to leave, aware of the horrible risk they were taking and fearing for the lives of those she held dear.

"Watch your back," Kurtis advised, behind her.

Lara hesitated. This could be the last thing she ever said to him. _If you don't say it, and he dies, it'll nag you for the rest of your life_, her inner sap warned. _I don't have time for this!_ another voice screamed back. _On your head be it,_ the first replied with a mental shrug.

The tomb raider shook her head and looked back at the expressionless Angel. "I love you," she told Kurtis, her voice barely audible. It was easier to say to a see-through, horned thing with no features, but only marginally. Angel-Kurtis shifted, but a voice interrupted his reply.

"This is lovely," Bryce cut in, tone a little frantic, "but if you don't get your arses back here soon, it'll be like a Shakespearian tragedy!"

Reminded of their purpose, Lara shot one last look at the Angel, which flickered as Kurtis prepared to leave it, and then began to sprint back the way they had come. She had barely gone two steps when she felt a violent movement at her back, a cross between a jerk and some kind of suction, then a splitting headache followed by unnerving anaesthesia, complete numbness in every part of her. Her vision flashed white, and then cleared.

"What the _hell…_?" In disorientated disbelief, Lara stared at her own body, which lay a few feet away, sprawled face-down on the ground. She was deathly pale, her lips almost blue. _Some kind of out-of-body experience?_ she wondered briefly. But when she looked down at familiar translucent limbs, the truth hit her, hard. _How is this possible?_

"Lara?" she heard a tinny voice say clearly. In amazement, the tomb raider realised she was hearing the emanating sound waves from her own earpiece, still in her body's ear, as if it were in the Angel's – if it had ears anywhere.

Hesitantly, she moved towards her body, and the microphone attached to her shirt, observing the difference in movement between her own, human limbs and these foreign objects. Reaching the headset, she asked shakily, in her own voice, "Kurtis?"

Amidst gunfire, shouts and cries of pain, Kurtis yelled, "Where are you?"

"You're not going to believe this… but the Angel sucked me in."

"What!" Bryce and Kurtis asked simultaneously, equally incredulous.

"Just hang on, Lara. As soon as I can, I'll come and push you out. If Karel tries anything, the way to resist him is t–" Abruptly, Kurtis' voice cut off, and the numbness and brightness returned to Lara's world. _Karel__ Shit!_ With no clear idea of what she was doing, she visualised herself grabbing onto the brightness around her, fashioning handholds for herself. The numbness receded, replaced by an excruciating pain that would have sent Lara screaming into oblivion if she had had the luxury of control over her vocal chords. Grimly, she held on, weakly clawing out better handholds as the agony, impossibly, intensified tenfold. _I am _never _giving birth…_ she decided, before her brain became incapable of forming thoughts. The bright white of her vision took on a pinkish tinge, like blood seeping into water, but abruptly darkened to crimson, maroon, jet black.

* * *

**What's going to happen next? Damned if I know… grin Let me know what you think!**


	27. Setbacks

**A/N**: Hi everyone… I know it's been a while, but I've been so utterly bored at work that my creative juices have all dried up… hopefully this will be okay. I didn't want to do anything too clichéd, so fingers crossed for originality…

**Revised 01/10/05

* * *

**

Lara had no idea when the senseless, all-encompassing dark had been permeated by starlight. Though there was nothing for the stars to illuminate – no ground, no objects whatsoever – they were there, shining away merrily, unaware of their futility.

She felt disorientated, sickened by the pain that had forced her here and then abruptly departed. She floated in this landless place unmoving, a horrible suspicion beginning to germinate in her mind. _Am I dead? Did my body die while I was in the Angel, so that when Karel cast me out, I had no place to go?_

She struggled to surface from this waking nightmare, terrified. _Just like Egypt… just like Egypt… buried in stars instead of rubble…_

An ominous presence at her back jarred her careering thoughts to a standstill. Ms Croft.

She tried to swivel and face Karel, but only exhausted herself trying. She couldn't even open her mouth to speak. Bugger off.

I suppose this is a bit of a mystery to you. Would you care for an explanation?

Well, as you can see, I have nothing better to do at the moment.

Karel chuckled. Frankly, I'm surprised you managed to hang on long enough to get here. That's one heck of a will you have there. But as I was saying – this is the… the engine of the Angel, if you like. You've been able to control it as you would your own body through thought alone, like a motorist would use a steering wheel and accelerator to drive a car. It's not these instruments that power the car – it's the engine. Take apart the engine, and the accelerator becomes useless. The motorist has to fix the engine before the car will start again…

And when they open the bonnet, you try and jump in yourself, Lara filled in, surveying her empty surroundings with renewed interest. Well, I'm sorry, but there's no way I let anyone but Bryce tinker with my Porsche, so you're out of luck.

His voice in her mind was deceptively gentle as he played on the fears that had distressed her so not minutes before. Let go of the Angel, Lara, and you'll be back in your own body, safe and sound.

She hadn't even realised that her fists were still clenched into the imaginary handholds she'd dug for herself in the non-existent fabric of the Angel. She wouldn't even know how to drop her hold on them, and there was no way she'd do it for this bastard. You don't happen to have a Periapt Shard handy, do you?

Karel's presence was all around her. If she'd been breathing, she would surely have suffocated. If you insist, he snarled, all pretence of docility abandoned, we shall have to do this the hard way. The _painful_ way.

If I had a body, I'm sure it'd be trembling with fear, Lara shot back, heavy sarcasm masking her anxiety at this rapidly-worsening situation.

With a wordless grunt of rage, Karel made his move. The pressure of his presence around her increased, as if he was attempting to squeeze her very soul out of existence. At first the sensation was similar to pressing down on a bruise, but as time passed the 'bruises' grew to sores, and from there it worsened still, until it felt as if her skin was being peeled off layer by layer.

Get the fuck away from her.

Through a pain-induced haze, Lara registered another manifestation, another mind-voice. Kurtis' presence dampened her agony, nullified it, as it seeped between her own mind and Karel's. You okay?

I'll let you know when I'm back on my own two feet. Now that Kurtis was here, she didn't have to be, but she was loath to leave him. How can I fight?

You can't. And I need you gone so I can. Let it go.

She laughed humourlessly. With pleasure. Just tell me how.

She sensed the mental equivalent of someone slapping their own forehead in self-admonition. You can't do it alone unless you're Lux Veritatis. I'll help. Why did it seem like Karel was just standing by and waiting for him to be done babysitting her? Was he immobilised in some way? Gaining a new respect for Kurtis' abilities, Lara allowed him to tighten his grip on her as Karel had done. A cool breeze flowed between them, and the darkness surrounding Lara became blinding light…

"What…?" Fighting dizziness, Lara pushed to her feet, taking a second to relish the familiarity of her own body before glaring at the Angel that moved towards her, directing her words to the man within. "I thought the point of you doing this was that no one else had the power to get inside the Angel?"

He seemed as surprised as she. "It must work like a vacuum. I left it, and you were pulled in to fill the empty space…"

"Why wasn't _Karel_ pulled into the empty space?" Lara exploded. Her limbs felt weak and shaky, and she was more unnerved than she cared to admit by the experience. "Isn't he always trying to take over?"

"Maybe he was taking a break. I don't know," Kurtis shot back edgily, his tone warning her to drop it.

"Did you get him out of there?" she asked, wearily stretching her aching arms. He nodded.

Hasty footsteps approached, and Lara drew her guns once again, only relaxing her shooter's stance when André hurried into view.

"André? What's up?"

"Nothing, nothing… I just thought you'd need me – Bryce is more than capable up there now we've gotten rid of that rabble," André replied lamely.

"If you say so, mate," Bruce muttered in their earpieces.

Kurtis and Lara exchanged suspicious looks.

"So… we'll translate that into, you need to be here for the next part of what you've seen in your vision to happen," Kurtis filled in.

André looked suitably sheepish.

"Come on, then," Lara sighed. "Let's get this over with."

Three more flights of stairs down, they reached the floor on which Lara and Kurtis had first been imprisoned. The guard Lara had killed – the one gullible enough to think Lara was afraid of spiders – had not been disposed of, and lay decomposing amid a cloud of flies. "Nice Karel respects his followers enough to give them a decent burial," she remarked wryly.

André, paler than usual, grunted. Kurtis did not reply, and she could almost sense his nerves. She didn't blame him – she was getting a little twitchy herself.

They reached the end of the corridor, which culminated in a large room with no other exits. A dead end. "Now what?" Lara asked, frowning.

Kurtis' response made her jump. Without warning, he fired several bolts of orange energy into the wall, a portion of which – to her surprise – shimmered and disappeared. "Optical illusion," André muttered.

Wordlessly, Kurtis started forward, and was abruptly repelled, as if he and the corridor beyond were the like ends of two magnets. "What the…?" He stepped towards the fragmented wall once more, and this time was thrown back with twice the force.

"You okay?" Lara asked over her shoulder, reaching out a tentative hand to touch the space.

Iron spikes, rusted and ancient, shot out from all directions, and she yanked her arm back just in time.

"I'm fine. You're the one who should be watching yourself," Kurtis replied pointedly.

"Physical _and_ magical wards…" Lara murmured thoughtfully. "Can you break them?"

"I can." André's voice made them both turn as prickles of unease needled their minds. His tone was grave and a little shaky, and his grey eyes held a tinge of fear barely overpowered by resolution.

Suddenly, realisation clicked into place in Lara's brain. "_No_," she told him through gritted teeth. "Don't you dare."

With a sad shrug, a bitter, determined smile, André took a step towards the barrier. Lara intercepted him, scowling denial. "André, there has to be another way!"

"What?" Bryce asked, typically clueless.

Kurtis filled him in, quietly.

"Oh, come on, mate – it can't be that bad!"

"You remember I told you once there could be no shadow without light? The opposite is also true. I must depart this earth, or the Nephilim – and Karel – can never be truly defeated. They have been the shadow to dim my light – now I must be the light to vanquish the darkness." As he spoke, André's features changed, a little like they had seen Karel's alter. In a matter of seconds, he had sprouted wings like shimmering copper lattice, and his blonde hair lengthened, falling over his shoulders in golden waves. Grey eyes now shone gold, and the unremarkable features they were so used to reshaped themselves into a dazzlingly handsome face and lithe yet obviously powerful frame.

"What are you?" Kurtis asked, a split-second before Lara could. Her mind raced over possibilities – he appeared the stereotypical angel, minus the feathered wings and halo, but if he was an angel, what was the being that Kurtis inhabited?

When André spoke again, even his voice seemed richer. "The only living being – Nephilim, if you really must – formed of a virtuous human and an Angel. But there is no time for this. You must hurry."

Lara bit her tongue in order to suppress the logic-starved argument that fought to escape her lips. Andre smiled again, this time a little less fearfully. "Soon I will rejoin Djian in Paradise. And Lara, you might want to go and find Karel in the temple to the far north of the Nephilia Veritas in a minute."

Lara stepped back with a curt nod, hating herself for it, but forcing herself to accept the being's wishes. Kurtis stood still as stone at her side. Bryce, surprisingly, was also silent. Slowly, André stepped towards the barrier, and halted, as if psyching himself up for the event to come. "The spikes crave human blood, and the magical protections a dilute Angel's soul," he stated softly, as if reminding himself. With a deep breath, he took the last step forwards.

The spikes shot home with deadly accuracy, sending a shower of crimson rain into the air. André let out a muffled cry and fell to his knees as the blades retracted for the last time, drenched in vital fluids. Lara fought the urge to turn her head – the least she could do was bear witness to her friend's death.

The air pressure in the room seemed to increase, immobilising her and pressing inwards on her skin, as André collapsed facedown on the stone floor. Abruptly, it receded, and Lara was able to move again. As one, she and Kurtis dashed to the fallen Nephilim's side.

"Is he gone?" Bryce asked, though from his tone it was clear he already knew the answer.

Lara removed her fingers from André's neck. "Yeah." Remembering his words of advice – to go and find Karel – she glanced at Kurtis. "Good luck."

"See you topside." The Angel reached out a hand and skimmed it down her cheek. She felt nothing but a slight breeze, but appreciated the sentiment.

As Lara began to retrace the ground they had already covered at a measured jog, Kurtis glided carefully over the prone body of André and into the unknown…

* * *

**And we're one step closer to the end… Could you do me a favour and let me know what you think of André? Whether he was enough of a fleshed-out character, whether you actually cared when he died, that kind of thing… Thankies:hugs all reviewers:**


	28. The Nephilim City

**A/N: **Yes. It's been ages. I'm sorry! Thank you to godavari for the relentless ass-kicking and Chiazmo for egging me on even though you haven't read this yet. :) Right, this is kind of sucky, because it's all actiony and stuff, but yeah. Criticisms will be noted if you review.

**Revised 02/10/05

* * *

**

_This place…_ Pushing worry for Lara's safety to the back of his mind, Kurtis threaded his way up a rocky incline. Instead of sky overhead, noxious-looking red clouds floated, obscuring his vision as he drifted upward to get a lie of the land. Irritated and wary, he wafted an insubstantial arm at the fog, surprised when it began to disperse, trickling into crannies in the rock ceiling. _Weird…_

The cloud lifted from his eyes, and he almost thudded back into his own body in shock. Below him, stretching as far as he could see, lay a magnificent city. The sketch in the books they'd found could never do justice to the landscape that existed below Cappadocia's bustling streets. Towers soared a hundred feet into the air, as if reaching for the surface. Pillars stretched higher even than this, to join with and hold up the vast cavern's roof. And down there by a building which seemed a grotesque, twisted parody of the temple above… something moved.

_Lara would kill to see this_, Kurtis thought, to distract himself from the dread that invaded every atom that held the Angel together. Carefully, he lowered himself back to the ground, and began to float down the path toward the movement he'd seen, every nerve taut.

Soon the buildings cut off his sight of the entrance, but he didn't care. His priority was to get the job done – then he could think about getting out. He leaned into a few doorways, but the dwellings on the outskirts of the city seemed deserted. Not a good sign. Something had to live in these houses – they wouldn't be there, otherwise. Obviously something major was going down in the city centre, something that required every single one of the Nephilim to be present.

Kurtis travelled a mile without seeing a soul, his 'bad feeling' getting steadily worse. For one thing, Karel hadn't made an attempt at takeover in a while, a signal that by now Kurtis could interpret as a particularly nasty attack to come. Voices, speaking a language he'd never heard and was at a loss to understand, halted him. Quickly, he retreated and ducked his Angelic self into a building, deciding to wait out Karel's attack before he advanced further. He'd need all his strength when he got to the root of the problem.

Barely had he made this decision, an itch filled his vessel's ghostly cranium…

* * *

Without stopping to chat, Lara waved at Bryce and accepted a crossbow and his boost up into the smoke-laden air. Confused authorities and civilians alike milled around the smouldering remains of the Nephilia Veritas – she spared them but a glance before heading in the opposite direction, racing through deserted streets to the temple André had directed her to. 

Notching a bolt into the crossbow, she took a deep breath, and slipped inside. _Kurtis needs all the distraction you can give him_, she reminded herself, and, keeping her back to the wall, moved around the perimeter of the huge room, searching for her prey.

Finding nothing, she sighed inwardly. _Now to make a target of myself._ "Karel!" The word echoed around the huge hall.

A weary sigh answered her. "Ms. Croft, please, give it up. I have so much bigger fish to fry at the moment – you deserve a much slower and more painful death than the one I'd be forced to give you."

Lara suppressed indignant laughter. "So what you're basically trying to say is 'Shoo, fly, don't bother me'?" she asked, circling to pinpoint his position. _Talk to me, you bastard,_ she urged silently. _I have an arrow here with your name on it._

He spared her the trouble, swooping down from the rafters to land squarely in front of her. Already, the green fire she had so come to despise began to gather around his fingers.

Lara kicked out… and was abruptly repelled as if she'd hit a force-field like the one André had sacrificed himself to break. She cursed, breaking the fall with her backside and elbows, and Karel chuckled. "You see now that your role in this grand game is only to die?" he mocked.

"Well, as the saying goes, I'd rather die on my feet than live on my knees," Lara shot back. _Come on, Kurtis. Come on._ "So, if you're going to fry me, fry me."

* * *

Kurtis relaxed as the confrontational energy that was Karel flooded away. _Thank god for Lara_, he thought wearily. He was almost sure that one would have knocked him tail over heels back into his own body, and winced at the just-averted disaster. 

A new sense of urgency filling him, he emerged from his hiding place, ignoring the tickle of Karel's presence that ebbed and flowed through the Angel's particles. He was trying to handle Lara and take control at the same time, then. It seemed personal dislike for the woman was equally important to him as releasing the congregated Nephilim, and Kurtis was thankful for that.

As quickly yet stealthily as he could, he wound his way through the endless streets, emerging into a central city square with a fountain that oozed a red, viscous liquid that was congealing at the edges. He spared the blood stream barely a glance, saving his disgust for later. More important was the increasing pressure of the Nephilim presence just a few streets away.

Kurtis continued on, feeling his nerve unravel. But it was more than his nerve he was losing – it felt as though particles of the Angel were being sucked from its core, absorbing into the evil race that dwelled here and fuelling it. His time had been short even before this had begun to happen – now it was ridiculously so. Muttering curses, he increased his pace again, throwing caution to the wind.

A guttural, continuous noise that was half chant, half moan reached his ears, and Kurtis slowed the Angel a little, not daring to stop completely. He emerged into the huge square centred by the temple he had observed from above, and finally halted. "Oh, shit."

The chanting trailed off. The siphoning of the Angel's power was amplified tenfold. Two thousand Nephilim faces turned in Kurtis' direction.

Thinking quickly, he rose a hundred feet into the air, taking him out of physical reach of the beings. He had no idea if the human qualities of the Nephilim would keep them earthbound, but it was worth a shot.

Karel was only half Nephilim. These creatures were the real thing – pale, naked and sexless, they retained their humanoid figure but sprouted the malformed limbs of the Angel. One, who seemed to be their leader, came down from its podium on the temple steps. It raised a hand, and a rush of dizziness assaulted Kurtis' senses.

It was attack now, or lose the battle. Calling up the orange fire that was the Angel's weapon, he took a mental aim at the Nephilim leader's face. As he let off his first shot, gasping with exertion, his strength failed him. The Angel didn't so much crash to the ground as lose altitude gracefully, but the result was the same. Kurtis was heading back down towards the crowd of hissing Nephilim. Being half Angel, the things were absorbing his power into themselves.

The first shot went wide; the second hit a bodyguard that dived in front of the leader. After that, the things were on him. Their bodies glowed with various hues of the fire that was a trait of the Angel, and each bolt slammed into Kurtis with the force of a fist.

This wasn't going to work.

Retreat didn't seem a better option, but he had no choice. With every blow a fraction of his control slipped. As quickly as he could, Kurtis ducked back into the side streets and began to circle the square, dodging and picking off Nephilim as they found him. His mind raced, and brought him to only one conclusion – whatever he needed to do, it was in the temple.

This _really_ wasn't going to work.

* * *

**The next chapter will see Kurtis doing what he set out to do and then the Karel battle… and then an epilogue. Two chappies, folks… Seems really weird to be able to see the end. Anyway. REVIEW! I wanna see if I can get to 400! xp**


	29. Energy Drain

**A/N**: Okay, it's been 6 months, but I'm back! I think… I'm going to get this finished within the next week or so. Thanks for being so patient – I'm about to betray your loyalty by completely placing both characters in deadly jeopardy! Don'tcha just love me!

**Revised 02/10/05

* * *

**

Battling exhaustion, Kurtis fired off a couple of orange bolts at a Nephilim guard, which were more effective than he'd expected. The things seemed to shatter like glass at the touch of the Angel's magical fire, something he definitely wasn't complaining about. There were thousands of Nephilic citizens, and only one of him.

Not only that, but they were draining him to the last drop of his energy reserves. He wasn't sure how much longer he could last in this state – every movement was like wading through treacle. He had to get to the temple, and fast. Luckily, he was only a few feet from the 'back door', a simple archway into blackness.

Stumbling out of range of another hostile shot, Kurtis made a beeline for the archway, gasping relief when his pursuers fell away as soon as he entered the sanctified space. _Weird… but I'm not complaining. _Warily, he made his way through the gloom to where a faint green light pulsed in the distance, rebounding off pillars and turning the fire of the sconces set into the walls to emerald. He emerged into a central chamber, and hesitated in surprise.

Rising from the polished floor of the cavernous temple hall was a rough, rocky formation. Crystalline in structure, it was opaque and emanating the uneven green glow he had been following for the past few minutes. This was the Nephilic power source that fed Karel and granted him his invulnerability, his entire Nephilim side.

This was what needed to be destroyed.

There was one problem. Kurtis' very life force was being pulled from him bit by bit, fed into this very shard and through it to Karel. Paradoxically, every moment he lingered in its presence sustained the enemy.

Had he thought there was only one problem? _Better make that two_, he thought wearily as the Nephilic High Priest stepped in front of him once more, blocking his path to the shard.

_Shit._ Why was nothing ever simple?

It spoke to him, in a harsh, accented voice Kurtis could not trace. "You cannot defeat us, mortal. We are so confident of this that we have released our hybrid cousin from his endeavours. He should be able to take care of your girlfriend easily. Relinquish the Angel to us, or we will be impelled to use force with you, also."

"Scary," Kurtis responded wearily, although a shock of fear ran through him at the mention of Lara's plight. With all the determination he could muster, he gathered the last of his energy for the battle ahead.

The naked creature snarled, baring short, sharp teeth. Kurtis fired off a bolt of orange fire… and the fight began in earnest.

Despite its similar appearance to its minions, it was clear that this bastard was a completely different breed. For one thing, his long-range firebolts were instantly deflected and sucked into the crystalline shard in the centre of the room. Kurtis would have traded half of what remained of his life for his Chirugai at that moment; he was going to have to get up close and personal.

Luckily, his opponent seemed to be having the same problem – either he possessed no firepower, or he was loath to use it. Warily, the two closed in on one another, circling much like Kurtis and Lara did in their sparring sessions. Kurtis eyed the green glow of the shard in his peripheral vision, longing to turn his violent impulses to it, but knowing that the High Priest would be upon him before he had time to blink. His patience tried by the knowledge that his strength was still seeping from him, he launched the first attack.

They fought viciously, their desperation to protect their ways of life mirrored in one another. The Priest was faster than Kurtis would have thought possible, clawing and biting as well as kicking and punching. He seemed to have no problem connecting with the Angelic form, knocking the breath from him and sending starbursts of pain through his face and limbs. Fleetingly, Kurtis wondered what the fight was doing to his corporeal body, but the thought was driven from his head by another direct hit to his cheekbone.

He was holding his own, but barely. His entire body was on fire, aching with exertion and yet strangely numb in his fingers and toes. He kicked the thing soundly in the stomach, and it staggered back, gasping for breath. Before it could recover, he grabbed its hairless arm and twisted it forcefully, taking an element of sick satisfaction from the crack as the bone splintered. That done, he fell back for a rest, sure that it would take at least a couple of seconds for the Priest to regroup.

Lightning-fast, its sallow face contorted with utter rage, it started forward and shoved Kurtis back against the shard. There was a flaring pain as his back cracked over the hard, jagged surface, and then there was nothing – complete numbness permeated every pore, and with a sweep of terror Kurtis realised his back was broken. He was unable to move anything but the tips of his fingers, and again the thought of his corporeal body occurred to him. _Just… don't think about it._

As the High Priest approached, limping but triumphant, the urge to release his hold on the Angelic form was almost strong enough for him to yield to it. Only grim determination caused him to stay where he was. If he was going to lose, he would do it properly.

The Nephilim stood over him, a nasty smile stretching its lifeless cheeks. "This is your last chance to give up the Angel of your own free will. If you do not comply, your pain will be tenfold."

Kurtis forced back a hysterical laugh. "My back is broken, you evil bastard. My nerve endings are completely useless. Good luck to you." He wondered briefly what the point of a paralysed Angel was. Maybe the ritual involved killing it.

"Then feel this pain, mortal." It paused, an unholy gleam in its lustrous eyes. "Your girlfriend is dead."

_No. God, no…_ Kurtis closed his eyes, willing himself to calm down. _It's lying. It has to be lying…_ The worst part was, in the back of his mind he believed it. Lara had hardly survived her last encounter with Karel. This time, with no André around to help her, she had only a very slim chance of survival.

With an effort, he looked the thing right in the eye as it leaned over him. It hissed foul air into his face as he whispered, "Fuck you."

Simultaneously, he fired three bolts of orange fire from his only-just-mobile fingertips, and closed his eyes as they slammed into the ceiling. As the astonished Nephilim howled in defeat, the roof fell in, slamming down thousands of pounds of rock down onto the Priest, the shard… and Kurtis.

The last thing he heard before oblivion took him was the satisfying crash, like breaking glass, of the shard shattering into a million pieces.

* * *

Lara sprinted for cover behind a pillar, sweat dripping down her face and breath coming in exhausted pants. _This is worse than the last time_, she thought ironically as a green blast of energy hit the wall where she'd just been standing. _How much time does Kurtis _need_, for god's sake?_ She bit her lip as she reloaded her crossbow. She didn't want to think about what was happening far below her feet.

Karel had dismissed her out of hand at first. Kurtis and the Angel had been his only priority. He was invulnerable; she was but a mosquito on his arse. And thinking about Karel's arse really wasn't making her feel any less queasy. She fired off another crossbow shot… and missed. Her exhaustion was catching up with her, affecting her aim.

Surprisingly, Karel turned, fury in his eyes. It seemed that he'd… given up. _What the…?_

Her bewilderment was banished when the half-Nephilim spoke. "Mr. Trent is no longer my concern." A cold wave of fear swept over Lara, but she held her ground, her crossbow held more steadily than she'd thought she could manage. The words seemed just a little too indirect to mean he was dead. If Lara was right, Kurtis was up against the big guns now – and to exclude Karel from that category meant there was something truly formidable down there.

"I suppose that means I get your full attention, then? I feel so privileged." Despite her flippant tone, Lara was less than enthused. Now that his violent impulses were directed at her again, she was more than positive she didn't want them.

* * *

**Sorry this is a bit sub-standard - I really suck at fight scenes. Anyway, give me a review – I think I need a reward for not letting this fic die!**


	30. Loose Ends

**A/N**: This is it! My final chapter! I really hope you guys like, and thank you so much for all your encouragement so far! It's a bit long, but I don't think you'll complain… right? ;)

**Revised 02/10/05

* * *

**

"Die, mortal!" Lara hit the ground with barely a second to spare as a green flash of fire slammed into the wall behind her, rebounded, and set fire to a scrap of litter on the floor in front of her before dissipating.

"You know, this is getting old," she told him philosophically, regaining her footing and continuing to traverse the perimeter of the temple. "Haven't we done this bit before?"

A trickle of sweat mingled with blood ran into her eye, and she blinked it away, wincing at the pain. She'd been ducking and dodging for the past ten minutes, and was getting a strong sense of déjà vu – not least because she was losing blood at a frightening rate, and her balance was decidedly off. Pushing her discomfort away, she swiped a strand of errant hair out of her vision. When she looked back at the spot where Karel had been hovering, he was gone.

_Shit._ Lara spun, searching out her foe, but he was nowhere to be found. _How…?_

The tiniest sound permeated her brain. Acting on impulse, Lara executed a perfect backflip and rolled out of the way as a whoosh over her head informed her of the enemy's position. It was only as she was struggling to her feet that she registered that Karel had come soaring at her, only to hit the ground, hard.

Was it some kind of trick? The half-Nephilim was staggering to his feet, and Lara felt her heart leap as she stared at him. Where before he'd been pale, now he was as pallid as death. All traces of green fire had been extinguished, and he was actually swaying on his feet. He looked positively…

_Human._

Despite herself, hope was steadily rekindling in her soul, and she quickly snapped a crossbow bolt into place with shaking hands. Before Karel had a chance to regain his equilibrium, she fired it off.

He dodged, and the arrow embedded itself deep in his upper arm. "You little bitch," he hissed, turning white with pain.

Something told Lara he wasn't half the monstrosity he had been. Feeling fortitude flood back into her limbs, she reloaded with a sense of purpose and took aim for his heart.

Despite the fact that some kind of power drain had obviously occurred, he was still quick on his feet, and her next three shots missed completely. Growling frustration, she threw down the weapon and drew the twin Uzis at her thighs.

"Die, mortal," she shot his words back at him, and raised the weapons.

A warm hand on her arm stayed her shot. "Save some for me."

Lara nearly collapsed with relief at the sound of Kurtis' voice, but forced herself to keep an eye on her prey – or the pillar behind which he'd vanished. "It's your kill," she acquiesced reluctantly. "Just let me kneecap him first."

In spite of the situation, she could feel the amusement radiating from him. "Glad you agree. I'd hate to have to knock you out after you've done so well…"

As one, they moved toward the pillar, and circled round it, Lara moving right, Kurtis left.

The space behind the pillar was empty. Lara had a brief, shocked second to realise this before a dead weight landed on her. She fell hard, Karel using her body to break his fall, and in a bloom of rage and pain, she realised he'd scaled halfway up to the ceiling to ambush her.

She struggled to extricate herself from the tangle of their arms and legs, but he scrambled up first, kicking her in the face as he bolted for the temple door. Ignoring the insistent throb of pain, Lara pushed herself to her knees and took her shot. Before it even left the barrel of the Uzi, she knew she had struck true.

Karel fell, squirming with agony on the dusty floor. His right kneecap was completely shattered, and Lara finally allowed herself a twinge of satisfaction at her perfect aim.

She followed Kurtis, who approached Karel with his Chirugai held ready in one hand. With a commanding snap, the curved blades sprang from the metal framework, gleaming in the sunlight. The eclipse had ended, and the birds were beginning to sing once more.

"Joachim Karel," Kurtis said softly, staring down at the being that had killed his family, his friends, and, momentarily, his lover. Karel's hands were clutching at his injured leg, his eyes glazed with pain and hatred. As he returned the glare, two emotions warred within Kurtis: abhorrence, and pity.

The pity was banished within an instant, as he remembered the blank stare of his brother, Lyle; flashed back to the instant Karel had taken Lara's form; replayed her broken voice as she told him to leave her to die. Without further hesitation, he deployed the Chirugai, which left his hand in a blaze of orange light and made a beeline for the injured being's neck.

Neither he nor Lara looked away until Karel's ashen throat was torn into bloody pulp.

* * *

An exhausted silence descended upon the interior of the temple. Chips of stonework fell to the floor, evidence of the battle that had been fought there. Lara leaned her back against one of the pillars, taking some of the weight off her aching legs. A short distance away, Kurtis remained on his feet, staring down at Karel's body, expressionless. 

Lara watched him, scanning his body for injury properly for the first time since he'd come to her aid. He held a hand to his lower back, as if it was troubling him, and his skin was peppered with cuts and bruises, but he seemed otherwise fine. It was his silence that troubled her most.

"Kurtis," she said finally, the word emerging thickly from her dehydrated throat.

For a second, he did not respond, but then he turned to face her, his eyes sweeping over her as hers had over him moments before. He took in the multiple bruises, her black eye, the head wound that still bled freely. "You're okay." He sounded as if he couldn't believe it.

"I'm tougher than I look." Wincing, she approached him, lay her head on his shoulder. His arms folded around her, and she sighed gratefully, murmuring, "What happened?"

He gave her a brief run-down, and Lara could feel his body tensing up again as he spoke of being paralysed. Silently, she thanked every god she could think of for the fact that he'd been in the Angel's body when the injury had occurred. When he finished, she looked up into the eyes she had feared she would never see again. Something passed between them, and she knew Kurtis was thinking back to the passageway where she had told his Angel form she loved him.

Carefully, so as not to unbalance their injured frames, she pulled his head down towards her, brushing his lips with her own. Despite their wounds, Kurtis pulled her nearer, deepening their kiss. Lara was unable to stop the smile that spread over her face, and Kurtis pulled back, raising an eyebrow in a question.

"I love you," she whispered for the second time that day, and her smile grew as he embraced her fiercely, echoing her sentiment as a light rain began to fall outside.

* * *

"To the baby," Jean-Yves announced, holding up his glass. 

"The baby!" Agreement rang out and several glasses clinked as Bryce, Kurtis and Jean downed champagne, whilst Lara and Marianne demurely sipped water. The older woman's face carried the telltale glow of pregnancy, although she was not beginning to show yet. With a smile at Marianne, Lara patted her on the shoulder and excused herself, venturing out onto the front porch.

A week after the conclusion of the Cappadocia episode, Lara was more than ready to get out of Turkey. They'd spent the majority of the time here with Jean, healing from the injuries they'd taken, but despite the good food and better company, Lara was sick of the sight of the place. It was time to move on. She and Bryce were due at the airport to fly back to the UK in three days, but there were a few problems with that scenario…

A familiar pair of arms slid around her waist, and Lara leaned back against Kurtis, closing her eyes. They stood that way without speaking, while Lara tried to sort through the conflict in her brain. Finally, he interrupted her thoughts. "I'm leaving in the morning."

Lara nodded slowly: she'd expected as much. Her restlessness was almost a mirror of his. "Where will you go?" she asked quietly, shrugging out of his grip to see him better.

He shrugged, his eyes on the skyline. "Out of Turkey. Isn't that what matters?"

Lara marvelled at the way that, after they'd been through so much together, they could still be just as distant now as they were when they'd first met. "I suppose so," she replied, as neutrally as she could.

An impulsive thought sprang into her mind, and she had to bite her tongue to keep from voicing it. _Come back with me._ She closed her eyes, quashing the internal debate that had been raging through her since their return.

She was dead against settling down, getting married, having children. She didn't even think she could stand to have someone move in with her, and who knew if that would change? She didn't want to lose Kurtis, but it was unfair to place her limitations on him. It was this more than anything that made her hold her tongue.

"How about you?" he asked. "Are you still going back to England?"

He watched her as she nodded, almost imperceptibly. "I think so." She shifted uncomfortably. Kurtis resisted the urge to shake his head at how things had all of a sudden gotten so awkward between them. He couldn't tell what she was thinking; whether she would be glad to get back to her old life, or whether she was dreading it. He took a breath to say the words, _Come with me, to wherever it is I'm going_, but she spoke first. "It'll be good to see Winston, at least."

Kurtis knew in that moment that he couldn't do it. Lara was a woman who valued her independence, who violently opposed any kind of oppression – who was he to stand in the way?

His mind was in turmoil. _I'm going to lose her, and there's not a damn thing I can do about it._

She looked up at him, her expression frank. "I'm going to miss you." He could only nod, unable to reach out to pull her near, fearing that any physical contact between them now would only turn him into an emotional wreck. His mind skipped back to the night before, to the way they had made love and fallen asleep, fatigued yet content, in the stillness afterwards. If he had known it would be the last time… He pushed away the thought. It was pointless to dwell on things that could not be changed.

Lara watched Kurtis retreat into his own thoughts. His face was closed to her as it had not been for weeks, and she could feel him withdrawing from her almost as a physical pull. She understood… sympathised, even. But there was no way she could bridge the gap between them. Kurtis had made his decision, and it was the right one. They would only destroy each other, otherwise.

"I'm going to bed. Have a safe trip, okay?" She hated the formality to her tone, the stiffness in her words, but she couldn't be around this man a second longer.

She took three steps before his hand on her arm stopped her. Without a word, he pulled her into his arms, and they held each other tightly, taking warmth and comfort from each other for moment after long moment.

Too soon, they separated. For long seconds, they stared into one another's faces, until Lara could no longer stand it. Swiftly, she pressed her lips to his, breaking off before he could respond, and fled.

* * *

Kurtis stared blankly at the clock on the bedside table, waiting for the digital numbers to click from 04:59 to 05:00. He had spent the night in the room Jean had allocated him on their first stay, tormented by thoughts of Lara just down the hall. His emotions had flipped from one extreme to another: one minute he lay wishing Lara would come to him, the next he sat up, trying to persuade himself to go to her – or dissuade himself. One instant he sat in dark self-loathing for his inability to reach out, and the next he bitterly cursed Lara for being so distant. He could not have gotten more than three hours of sleep throughout the entire night, and those hours had been spent in restless dreaming. 

The numbers clicked over, and Kurtis forced himself out of bed and began to dress. It took him less than ten minutes to be ready to walk out of the door, and he left his room, shutting the door behind him and walking down the hall with a backward glance at Lara's room. Putting her out of his mind as best he could, he descended the stairs and crossed to the front door, stepping out into the sunrise and taking a deep breath of fresh air.

A voice addressed him as he stepped off the porch. "You're really going, then?"

He halted, but could not bring himself to turn around, knowing that if he did, his resolve would be broken. "Yeah."

Lara's voice held a trace of bitter amusement when she replied; clearly, she had spent her night in much the same way that he had. "I don't know why I'm surprised."

Was she _blaming _him? Incredulity flooding through him, he turned to face her. "What do you want me to do, Lara?" he asked shortly, staring up at her irritated expression.

She shook her head, anger and confusion in her eyes. "I don't know," she returned sharply. "But there are a few things I do know for sure."

Kurtis trod firmly upon the hope that threatened to rise in his heart as he waited for her to continue.

"I know that I can't settle down, ask you to move in, become a domesticated happy family like Jean and Marianne," she told him, still with some force to her voice. What little optimism that had bloomed in Kurtis' soul faded, and he continued his course towards the rental car, shaking his head in disgust at her determination to rip his heart to shreds.

Her next words brought him to a standstill, softly-spoken though they were. "But I also know that I can't just let you go like this."

As she took the porch steps down into the front garden, Kurtis took a seat on the bonnet of the car, watching her approach. She had no idea how he would respond to her words, and her stomach twisted with the anticipation.

Finally, he nodded. "I know." Relieved at the lack of animosity in him, Lara sat beside him. A few minutes passed before she spoke.

"The Café Metro, October seventh, at noon." A slight smile curved her lips as she slid her hand over his. He took it and squeezed it as she continued, "You free?"

He smiled. "I am now."

She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing. "What time is your flight?"

"Early enough that I need to get going within the next five minutes." Reluctantly, Kurtis slid off the bonnet of the car, and Lara followed. Once standing, she wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly, inhaling his familiar scent one final time.

"You know, if you go out and find someone else, I'm going to kick your arse," she murmured into his shoulder, only half-joking.

He chuckled. "Took the words right out of my mouth." When he drew away from their embrace, his face was serious. "Take care of yourself. I'd hate to have to go on another murderous quest to avenge you."

"You, too." When Kurtis tilted her face up to his, Lara succumbed to his kiss willingly, knowing this would be the last time in a month that she would see him. Unable to stop herself, she pulled him closer, her tongue teasing his. She would have given anything at that moment to break down, to beg him to stay, but she knew that she would ultimately regret it. Maybe the break would help her gain some clarity on the matter.

Breathing hard, they separated, and their gazes locked. For one crazy moment, Lara thought he was going to say what she could not, but then he shook his head ruefully. "I have to go," he breathed against her lips, his words belied by his actions as he kissed her again. By the time he released her, Lara was trembling. From his expression, she guessed Kurtis was not too calm, either.

"Go," she whispered, before she could change her mind. Kurtis nodded, and offered no resistance as she backed away. Without looking at her, he slung his backpack past the driver's seat to the passenger side, and slid behind the wheel. It wasn't until he'd slammed the door shut that he looked back at her.

Aching inside, Lara forced a smile and raised her hand in a last goodbye. Kurtis returned the gesture, and pulled the car out of the driveway. Facing the open road, he slowed the vehicle to a stop for a second, as if steeling himself for what he was about to do. After a moment that seemed at once too long and not long enough, the rusted old rental-car rolled forward, picking up speed, until it was only a speck in the distance.

Lara watched until it vanished out of sight on the horizon before turning and walking back towards Jean's house. It wasn't until she felt the slight breeze evaporate the moisture on her cheeks that she realised how deeply the loss had cut.

END.

* * *

**Finished! All done! Thank you so much to everyone who has reviewed this, and I'd love to know what you thought of the ending. :hugs all reviewers:**

**The sequel to this story is in progress – it's called The Light of Truth. **

**Finally, I'm sorry to my wonderful friend Abby for misleading her as to the nature of the ending. :hands over chocolate as penance:**


End file.
